The office was silent in a way that made Ethan Hale feel like a man cornered by his own decisions. The blinds filtered in a weak wash of winter light, casting pale stripes across the polished wood of his desk. Once, this room had been his sanctuary—a space of order and control. Today, it felt suffocating.
Vivienne Lancaster stood near the window, her silhouette framed against the cold daylight, a ribbon loosely tied at the collar of her oversized dress. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder like ink in water. She didn’t look at him when he spoke; she rarely did when the words mattered most.
“I need two weeks,” Ethan said, his voice clipped, deliberate. “No sessions. No calls. Nothing. I’m spending the holidays with my daughters.”
He expected an argument. A sharp remark. Maybe even one of h
