Emily
It’s Monday morning, a couple of weeks after the incident at the edge, as Aiden suggested we should forget about that night—neither of us has mentioned it since.
Except for the money, which I haven’t touched. It's still sitting in my desk drawer, untouched, despite our back-and-forth over it. I lost the argument only because I was too exhausted to keep fighting.
As I hurry toward the elevator, balancing two cups of steaming coffee, a sudden bump jolts me, sending scalding liquid splattering across my pristine white top.
The burn sears my skin as I carefully pry the fabric away with my pinky and ring finger, all while clutching the cups.
Maybe putting them down would have been a smart idea, Emily.
A woman with vibrant green eyes meets my gaze. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
