Nothing happened.
And that was the problem.
After lunch with Johnson, I waited for something—anything. A clipped message. A sharp look across the glass wall of Jayden’s office. Even anger would have been easier to bear. Anger meant reaction. Anger meant I still mattered enough to disturb him.
But Jayden did nothing.
He passed me in the hallway with a polite nod, the kind he gave department heads and visiting executives. When I sent files, he acknowledged them with brief efficiency.
Received. Thank you.
No notes. No follow-up questions. No request for clarification.
Professional. Impeccable. Almost… considerate.
The absence of tension pressed harder than confrontation ever could. It sat in my chest, heavy and unmovable, making it difficult to breath
