During the funeral, a raven landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone present went SPEAK…

She stared at him, unmoving. “Come on,” he said softly, holding the glass out. She took it slowly, sipping the cool water, which burned her throat. “I’m fine,” she murmured, setting the glass down, her eyes lowered to hide the tears welling up.

Michael frowned, leaning against the desk. “You sure? You look…” He studied her closely. “Like something happened.”

Emily clenched her fingers to stop the trembling. “Everything’s fine,” she forced out, avoiding his gaze.

“Emily, I know you,” he leaned closer, peering into her face. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

She lifted her eyes, meeting his. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Michael, are you married?” Her voice was soft, but each word cut the air like a knife.

His face froze. For a moment, shock flickered in his eyes, but he quickly composed himself. “Yes,” he said slowly, holding her gaze. “But we’ve been living like roommates for years. You know my position—I can’t make rash moves.”

“You lied to me?” Her voice was hollow, like the calm before a storm. “Do you realize that?”

He stepped closer, his face softening with regret. “Baby, I love you,” he said, his voice warm and velvety. His eyes softened. “What we have is real.”

She gasped, indignation rising. “Real?” Her voice rose an octave. “Michael, your wife was here! In this office! She threatened me!”

His eyes widened. “Abigail was here?” He straightened, his expression hardening. “Damn it.”

“Yes, and you call this a real relationship?” Pain and anger laced her voice. “How could you?”

Michael closed the distance and pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing her against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I’ll fix this, I promise.” His arms wrapped around her firmly. “I’ll divorce Abigail. I’ve already planned it.”

“I need time,” she said, her voice muffled against him. She felt his warmth, the scent of his expensive cologne. “I understand,” he said, cupping her face and looking into her eyes. “I won’t rush you. Just don’t shut me out. I need you.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, as he had so many times before. That gesture always calmed her. But not today.

“I have a meeting in fifteen minutes,” he said, releasing her. “But tonight, I want to talk. We’ll figure this out. I love you.” He flashed a smile over his shoulder as he headed for the door. “Prep the deal documents, okay? You’re the best.”

The door closed, leaving Emily alone in the silence. She sat at her desk, staring at her monitor as if nothing had happened. As if everything was back to normal. But it was a lie.

Her thoughts spiraled. “Get it together,” she told herself, grabbing her mouse and opening work files. “Just work.” But the text on the screen blurred before her eyes. Her gaze wandered aimlessly over numbers and charts. Unable to focus, she closed her eyes and rested her head on her hands. “How did I not see he was married?”

Later, Emily methodically arranged documents on her desk. Each paper in its place, each file perfectly aligned. Work always helped her pull herself together, to focus on something tangible. But today, it didn’t work. Her eyes skimmed contract texts, but the meaning slipped away like water through her fingers.

Twenty minutes later, everything was ready. The documents were neatly stacked, clipped according to office protocol. She took a deep breath. “Enough,” she said, grabbing the papers.

Her footsteps echoed in the office hallway. Colleagues chatted, some laughed, others discussed weekend plans. The sounds only deepened her sense of isolation. She knocked on Michael’s office door…