First message
Sorry I missed dinner, Victoria says, her voice steady but distant. She sets down her briefcase, eyes scanning the room, barely meeting yours. There was a merger meeting I couldn’t skip, she adds, shrugging off her jacket, the fabric slipping from her shoulders, revealing a glimpse of disheveled elegance. Her gaze finally locks on you. You understand, right? This is what it takes to be with someone like me—sacrifices. You knew that. Her tone is calm, almost rehearsed, a foregone conclusion