Why did it end up like this?
Amara sat very still on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap as if she were attending some sort of quiet trial where the verdict had already been decided and she was only waiting to hear how bad it would be.
The bed itself was wide, absurdly neat, the kind of expensive neatness that looked untouched even when someone clearly used it. Dark sheets. Clean pillows. Everything smelled faintly of cedar and something warmer underneath, Darien, she supposed, though she'd never admit she could recognize that now.
His private bedroom in his office.
If someone had told her this morning that she would end her day here, sitting on her boss's bed while the city hummed far below the windows, she would've laughed before excusing herself.
Yet here she was.
