(Sean's POV)
I pick up the phone.
I dial. Not because I've decided to — just because I reach for it the way I reach for the coffee that isn't right anymore, some automatic signal in the body that doesn't ask permission first.
She answers on the fourth ring.
Her voice is flat. Not cold, not clipped, not performing calm the way she used to perform calm — that slightly too-controlled tone she'd use when she wanted me to know she was upset but wasn't going to say it. Not that. Just flat. Like I'm a number she doesn't recognize and answered out of habit.
I skip whatever I was going to say first. "Are you serious about the resignation?"
"Yes."
"You're my secretary. Not some entry-level position you can walk away from and pick up somewhere else next week. My secretary. You know what my end
