Jessica's knees felt weak, her pulse a frantic drummer against her ribs. Every word he’d just spoken, you’re a gift, was a scalding brand on her courage. Humiliation threatened to drown her, pulling her under a suffocating wave of self-pity. The luxurious rug felt unstable beneath her worn shoes, the entire floor seemed to sway. The air in this high-ceilinged room, clean and smelling sharply of money and cold control, felt impossibly thin, stealing her breath.
Her hands shook, small tremors running up her arms. Her chest was tight with a desperate, familiar pressure that bordered on panic. Don’t cry. Don’t break now. Do not give him the satisfaction of seeing you shatter.
He was still looking at her. His posture remained relaxed, a picture of casual power leaning against the expensive dr
