Damien's pov
Seventeen days. Seventeen silent days.
I stared at the screen in front of me again, but all I could think about was her. Then David, my colleague, leaned into my office.
"Damien, do you have the Q4 projections ready?"
His tie was loose around his neck, looking as tired as I felt.
"Yeah," I said, glancing up from my laptop, "I'll send them over in an hour."
"Perfect, thanks."
He left, and I went back to staring at the screen, the numbers blurring together.
Seventeen days.
That's how long it's been since Elena left for her trip, since I laid everything out and watched her walk away anyway.
Seventeen days of radio silence except for one text on New Year's Eve.
Elena: Happy New Year.
I'd stared at that message for twenty minutes, my fingers hovering over the keyboard,
