Some weeks pass you by like a breeze. And then some weeks carve themselves into your chest. This one carved me, slowly.
Each day that Camille showed up to the office—flawless and confident, her heels echoing down the hallway—was a reminder that I was not enough. Not beautiful enough. Not powerful enough. Not worth defending. Damian never looked at me. Not once.
But I watched him. I watched how his hand found the small of Camille’s back. I watched how she kissed his cheek in the lobby, how she touched his tie like it belonged to her. And worst of all…
I watched him smile at her.
It didn’t matter how empty the smile looked to me. To everyone else, it was believable. By Wednesday, the whispers were gone, but not because they’d forgotten. Because they’d moved on. They’d replaced scandal wi
