By the time work finally ended, I was done. Completely drained—mentally, physically, emotionally—you name it. It had been one of those cursed days where the universe seemed hellbent on testing my limits. All I wanted was to collapse into bed, drown myself in a trashy rom-com, and demolish a pint of ice cream without a shred of dignity. But no, because apparently, life wasn’t quite done sucker-punching me.
I was halfway to my car, the sharp clicks of my heels echoing off the pavement as my mind drifted toward the sweet promise of sweatpants and solitude. That’s when I heard it—a familiar, grating voice slicing through the cool evening air, calling my name like nails on a chalkboard.
“We need to talk!”
I stopped in my tracks, my stomach sinking. Oh, for the love of—
I turned slowly
