I sit in my office, files spread across the desk in chaotic stacks that seem to have multiplied overnight. Papers peek out from beneath folders, folders lean against binders, and somewhere beneath it all is the mahogany surface I haven't seen in hours.
My eyes stay fixed on the documents, trying to catch up after skipping just one day.
Just one day of happiness. Of freedom. Of being normal—walking on a beach, kissing under the sunrise.
Just one day, and now I'm drowning.
I stretch, my arms reaching overhead, my spine cracking in protest. I lean back in my chair, the leather cool against my tired shoulders.
I'm so exhausted.
A playful smile touches my lips, unbidden. I should call my secretary. Take a nap on his lap. That would fix everything. Just five minutes—resting against him, breathing in his scent, feeling his fingers in my hair—
I reach for my phone, my fingers hovering over the dial—
The office door opens. No knock.
My smile brightens instantly, reflexively.
