Nita's POV
I stood outside his office door, my palms slick against the leather strap of my bag, hesitating as to what I was even going to say. Words had been rehearsed in my head since dawn, only for them to fall apart the second I tried to string them together aloud. His receptionist didn't bother announcing me anymore. She simply glanced up, registered my face, and went back to her emails. Everyone in the building knew the story now. The tabloids had made sure of it—our engagement was trending before I even got home that night. I was no longer just Nita; I was his fiancée.
I stood there a long moment, staring at the door. My throat clenched. Did I really want to walk into that office?