“Why won’t you let me go with you? Why won't you let me go to work?” I asked, one eyebrow raised as I stood with my hands on my hips.

Terrence had his back to me, already dressed like he was rushing off to some sudden board meeting. He moved quickly, slipping into a long-sleeved polo, his fingers busy with the buttons—but I could tell. He was deliberately avoiding my gaze.

“There are plenty of people who can help me at the office,” he said seriously. “Just stay here, or go visit ...