Alan
The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting long, narrow lines across my desk.
I stared at the papers in front of me, but my mind wasn’t on budgets, contracts, or projections. It was on Cyril, her presence, her touch, the quiet intimacy of last night that still lingered like a faint scent on the sheets.
I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to focus.
The office demanded my attention, demanded order, and yet the world had other plans.
Every time I looked up, there she was—Cyril, moving through the office with her usual precision, yet today there was an added weight to her movements, a careful awareness I recognized instantly. She was as conscious of me as I was of her.
“Alan,” Joseph’s voice broke the silence, drawing me back to the present. “Your first meeting
