(Lyra’s POV)
When I opened my eyes that morning, I told myself I was going to the office.
That was it. Nothing more. Nothing less.
You are going to the office. You have work. You are not going to him.
That was what I wanted myself to believe.
I dressed carefully, my blouse buttoned all the way up, my hair tied back like armor. If I looked professional enough, maybe I could bury the storm inside me.
I grabbed my bag, locked the door, and stepped out. The air was sharp against my skin, cool enough to sting me back into reality.
And still, every step felt heavier.
The city moved around me, cars rushing, voices blending into a low hum. But in my head, it was silent. Only his words echoed, threading through the cracks in my resolve.
“If you’re ready for the proposal, come to the marria
