The shrill vibration of her phone dragged Denisse out of a restless sleep.
She groaned and buried her face deeper into the couch cushion, hoping the noise would stop on its own. It didn't.
With a muffled curse, she stretched an arm toward the coffee table without opening her eyes. Her fingertips brushed empty air.
"Come on..."
She leaned farther.
The couch dipped beneath her weight, and for one terrifying second she almost pitched onto the floor. Catching herself with a knee, she finally snatched the phone before it vibrated off the edge of the table.
She answered without looking at the screen.
"Hello?" Her voice came out hoarse, thick with sleep.
The moment she spoke, a sharp throb pulsed through her temples. She winced, pressing her free hand against her forehead as memories of last night's drinks surfaced in scattered flashes. The room seemed brighter than it had any right to be, every ray of sunlight slipping through the curtains drilling straight into her aching head.
"Girl, where are you?" Gigi's frantic voice burst through the speaker.
Denisse squeezed her eyes shut.
"What?" she mumbled. "At home... why?"
"Ms. Ashford's been looking for you! Aren't you coming to the office?"
For a heartbeat, the words refused to register.
Then they hit.
Denisse's eyes flew open. She whipped her head toward the wall clock.
9:17.
Every trace of sleep vanished.
She shot upright so fast the room tilted around her.
"Shit!" she blurted, already throwing the blanket aside. "I'm late!"
"You just realized that?"
"I have to go. Bye."
She ended the call before Gigi could say another word.
Silence settled over the apartment, broken only by the pounding of her own heartbeat.
She unlocked her phone to check the time again.
The notification screen lit up.
5 Missed Calls
Her breath caught.
Lesley.
Five missed calls.
Her thumb hovered over Lesley's name, frozen.
A knot tightened in her chest.
Last week, after everything Daphne had told her, she hadn't known what to believe anymore. Every accusation had tangled itself around her thoughts until she could barely separate truth from manipulation.
But today...
Today was supposed to be different.
She had promised herself she would stop running from questions she was too afraid to ask.
She was finally going to tell Lesley everything Daphne had said.
Then she would listen.
Not to assumptions.
Not to rumors.
To Lesley.
Because somewhere beneath the confusion, beneath the hurt and doubt, there was still a part of her that wanted to believe there had to be an explanation.
Her thumb drifted toward the call button.
Then she stopped.
No.
She'd rather hear it face to face.
Taking a slow breath, she slipped the phone into her pocket and hurried toward the bathroom.
The cold spray from the shower hit her skin like needles, washing away the lingering scent of alcohol but doing little for the pounding behind her eyes. Steam slowly filled the room as she hurried through her routine, every passing minute feeding the anxiety twisting in her stomach.
By the time she finished dressing, hastily drying her hair and grabbing her bag, nearly thirty minutes had slipped away.
"Damn it..."
She rushed out of the apartment, locking the door behind her without a second glance.
The morning air greeted her with a sharp breeze as she jogged across the parking lot toward her car.
She climbed into the driver's seat, tossed her bag onto the passenger side, and started the engine.
As the car pulled out onto the road, one thought echoed louder than the traffic outside.
I just need to talk to her.
Everything will make sense once I hear it from Lesley.
The city was already alive.
Cars streamed through the streets in an endless procession of steel and glass, their brake lights flickering like a sea of red ahead of her. Denisse tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she merged onto the main road, weaving through the morning traffic with as much patience as she could force herself to have.
It wasn't enough.
The line of vehicles slowed.
Then stopped.
"...Seriously?"
She glanced at the dashboard clock.
10:09 a.m.
Her foot tapped restlessly against the floor mat while her fingers drummed the steering wheel. A motorcycle squeezed effortlessly between the lanes, disappearing into the distance, followed by another.
"I should've bought a bike," she muttered under her breath.
A chorus of impatient horns erupted somewhere behind her.
The cars barely moved.
Another glance at the clock.
10:14 a.m.
Her jaw tightened.
Without thinking, she reached for her phone resting in the cup holder. The screen lit up almost instantly.
Still no new messages.
Still those five missed calls from Lesley.
Her thumb lingered over Lesley's name once more.
Should she call?
Tell her she was on her way?
No.
Whatever they needed to say... she wanted to say it face to-face. No interruptions. No misunderstandings. Just the two of them.
She set the phone back down with a quiet sigh.
The traffic crawled forward another few feet before grinding to a halt again.
Denisse leaned back against the headrest and let out a frustrated breath through her nose.
Every passing second felt stolen.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was already too late.
Too late for work.
Too late for the conversation.
Too late... for something she couldn't quite explain.
The thought unsettled her enough that she straightened in her seat.
"Stop it," she whispered to herself.
She was overthinking.
Lesley had called five times. If anything, that meant she wanted to talk just as badly.
That had to count for something.
The line of cars finally lurched forward.
Denisse immediately eased off the brake and pressed the accelerator, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"Come on..." she murmured, almost pleading with the traffic itself. "Just let me get there."
By the time Denisse pulled into the lot directly facing the glass high-rise, her heart was already racing.
She barely remembered turning off the engine.
Her bag was over her shoulder before she slammed the car door shut, hurrying toward the lobby with hurried, uneven steps.
"Morning, Ms. Moore," the receptionist greeted.
Denisse managed nothing more than a distracted nod as she walked past.
Everything could wait.
She just needed to see Lesley.
The elevator doors slid open with an agonizing chime.
She stepped inside and jabbed the button for the executive floor.
The doors began to close with infuriating slowness.
"Come on..." she muttered, repeatedly pressing the Close Door button as if sheer persistence would make the elevator obey. "Faster."
The elevator climbed one floor at a time.
Each stop felt like an eternity.
Denisse folded her arms tightly across her stomach, then unfolded them a second later. Her foot bounced restlessly against the polished floor.
Please...
Just let me get there.
When the elevator finally chimed at the top floor, the doors had barely opened before she slipped through the gap.
"Wait for me, Lesley," she whispered, already quickening her pace.
The familiar hallway stretched before her, lined with glass walls and quiet offices. Normally she would stop by her own desk first, organize Lesley's schedule, make coffee, check the day's appointments.
Today, none of that mattered.
There was only one destination.
She rounded the corner and reached Lesley's office.
She didn't knock.
She didn't announce herself.
She simply reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
The world ended in silence.
Denisse froze.
Her fingers locked around the cold metal doorknob, refusing to let go. Even breathing felt impossible.
Inside, time seemed to stand still.
Lesley.
Daphne.
Standing impossibly close.
Their lips were pressed together.
For one endless, unbearable second, Denisse's mind rejected what her eyes were showing her. It couldn't be real. It had to be a misunderstanding—a trick of the light, a nightmare she hadn't woken from.
The world fell silent.
No humming air conditioner.
No clicking keyboards from outside.
No distant conversations in the hallway.
Nothing.
Only the deafening roar inside her ears.
The air caught in her throat.
She couldn't breathe.
Her fingers slowly loosened around the handle as every promise she had clung to during the drive shattered before her.
She had rushed here.
Ignored the pounding in her head.
Fought through traffic.
Held onto the hope that, once they talked, everything would finally make sense.
Instead...
This.
A sharp ache spread through her chest, so fierce she almost reached for it, as if she could keep her heart from falling apart in her own hands.
No...
No...
This couldn't be real.
Her vision blurred, though she wasn't sure whether it was from tears or the sudden sting in her eyes.
Then the kiss broke.
Lesley shoved Daphne away so abruptly that Daphne stumbled backward.
"Denisse!" Lesley's voice cracked with panic. "It's not what you think!"
The words reached her ears.
But they never reached her heart.
Because all Denisse could still see...
...was the kiss.
She forced herself to move.
One shaky step backward.
Then another.
Without a word, she pulled the door shut.
The soft click echoed louder than any scream.
She turned.
And ran.
Her heels struck the marble floor in frantic rhythm as she fled down the hallway, her vision swimming with tears she refused to let fall.
Someone called her name.
Once.
Then again.
She didn't stop.
She didn't look back.
Whether it was Lesley or someone else no longer mattered.
The only thing she knew was that she couldn't stay.
Not here.
Not after seeing the woman she loved in the middle of a kiss that wasn't meant for her.
She kept running.
But no matter how far she ran, she couldn't outrun the image seared into her mind—
Daphne's lips on Lesley's.