THE RAIN BETWEEN US
*Alex's pov first — then Glande's.*
Lunch should have simplified things.
I had told myself this on the walk back from the conference room — that the conversation, the light, and the specific ease of an hour without the professional structure between us would clarify something.
I sat behind my desk with the afternoon files in front of me.
I read the same paragraph four times.
I looked through the glass.
She was at her desk. Typing steadily, the posture of someone doing their work with their full attention. She looked entirely unaffected by the conference room.
She looked composed.
She was not looking at me.
I looked back at the file.
I read the paragraph a fifth time.
She looked up.
Our eyes met through the glass — brief, direct, the specific quality of two
