Thoren
The quiet of my office was a relief.
I settled behind my desk, fingers flying across the laptop as I pulled up documents from the northern border patrol and a few new trade agreements I hadn’t had time to look at all week. The reports were dull, the numbers worse. I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, blinking at the screen.
My thoughts kept drifting.
Back to her.
To the bruise under her ribs.
To the way she kissed me.
To the fact that she still didn’t trust what we were building—and the fact that I couldn’t blame her for that.
A soft knock interrupted my spiral.
Then the door opened before I could answer.
“Whatcha doin’?” Michelle’s voice sing-songed into the room like a breeze through an open window.
I didn’t look up. “Working.”
She padded across the rug like she owned th
