“I didn’t know you worked here,” David says the moment the elevator doors meet.
I watch my reflection in the polished metal. I don’t care.
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have signed this contract.”
“Then refuse it right now.”
Out of the corner of my eye I notice how he tilts his head, trying to catch my gaze.
“Now it’s too late. It’ll be easier to fire you.”
“I’ll leave on my own,” I push the words through the tight spasm gripping my throat.
Five years ago, when he cheated and even filed for divorce himself, I was ready to run after him through the snow barefoot. Now, with the same desperation, I want to run from him.