June

The moment Vanessa leaves and the door clicks shut, the air tightens again. I’m about to speak, when his phone rings. He doesn’t even look at me, just picks it up, muttering a low, deep "Yes?" before turning slightly away.

Typical.

I cross my arms and shift my weight, staring at the edge of his desk. He speaks in short, calm replies—"Okay," "Fine," "Do that." Nothing emotional, or revealing.

Still, I can feel his eyes flicker toward me every few seconds. It’s subtle, but I see ...