Blake’s POV
“No, I’m just not sugar-coating it. Wear your rose-tinted glasses if you want to,” she said. “You don’t want to be the guy who dumps his wife after she wakes up. I get it. Optics and your public image. All that bullshit. It would make you look like a s**t person. But don’t pretend this is about my wellbeing.” She stepped closer, voice sharpening. “Men like you master the art of pulling strings. The perfect puppet masters. You forget I know you, Blake. Maybe better than your wife. You excel at convincing people that an outcome you orchestrated was actually their brilliant idea.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I didn’t say it.
“I’m offering you options,” I said instead. “If you want a transfer, I’ll sign off on it and make sure you don’t lose benefits. Maybe a different department, differ
