Page 44 of The Secretary Volume II

But even as I step into my apartment, I know I still have to opt out.

I’ve merely delayed.

The lights feel too sharp, like they’re stripping something away.The silence presses against my chest.My keys hit the counter with a sound that echoes like an accusation.The familiar ache creeps up.There’s no one here, no one to come home to.I could die and it might be days,weeks, before anyone would find me.

Maybe I don’t misshim, but I miss being married.

Actually, even that’s a lie.I do miss him.Not in the romantic sense, just in the sense that I lost a very dear friend.

So I don’t sit.I don’t take off my shoes.I just stand there.

Feeling sorry for myself.Wrestling with everything and nothing.Wishing things could have been different.WishingIcould have been different.

Maybe that’s why the weight of the note in my bag pulls at me.Even here.Like it knows I’m not done with it.

Then my phone chimes, breaking the silence.

No name.Just three words:

See you soon.

The words burrow under my skin like a splinter I can’t remove.

I type a response, my fingers stiff—clean, polite, like it matters.

My apologies.I won’t be able to make it tonight.

I hit send.

No response.

Then another ping.Read.No reply.

I stare at the screen, a cold, sick sensation blooming behind my ribs.

I tell myself I made the right call.

I didn’t say yes.But I don’t think it mattered.

Not to him.

25

Gillian

The car ride is quiet, but not in the way silence usually feels.

It feels like a warning.

There’s no message this time.No call, no pretense.Just an unmarked car idling at the curb outside my building and a driver who opens the door without a word.I don’t ask where we’re going.I already know.

Ellis’s home is etched into me now.I know the shape of the drive, the sound of the gate sliding open, the shift in air pressure when the locks engage behind me.But tonight, something’s different.Sharper.Hungrier.

He’s waiting at the door when I arrive.

He doesn’t greet me.

He just turns, and walks deeper into the house.