A full week had passed since William had been officially discharged from the hospital, and New York was slowly pretending to return to normal.
William still hadn't been medically cleared to return to the office, his recovery a slow, frustrating process that kept him anchored at his penthouse. He was a terrible patient, pacing his expansive living room and aggressively running the global empire from his laptop, commanding his board members via tense, late-night video conferences.
But while he got to work from home, I still had to show up.
Returning to the Torres building without him by my side felt like stepping onto a battlefield without a shield.
Worse than the crushing workload was the agonizing presence of Julian.
For the past seven days, he had gone on with his life as if absolutely nothing had happened. He walked the executive corridors with a smooth, unbothered arrogance, flashing a grieving, supportive smile to the staff whenever William's name was mentioned.
