Chapter 3: The Ice Wall

The office felt like a minefield that Tuesday morning, every step calculated to keep Marcus at arm's length. I arrived early, before the sun fully crested the skyline, slipping into my cubicle like a ghost. My usual fitted blouses and pencil skirts—were banished to the back of the closet. Instead, I wore a baggy sweater that swallowed my figure, loose slacks that hid the curve of my hips—the ones he'd gripped so possessively just days ago. No more signals, no more ...