9
Eva.
I felt it the moment I walked into the office—the chill in the air, the way people looked away from me just a little too quickly, the silence that was suddenly everywhere. Lila didn’t meet my eyes when she handed me the morning’s files. Mel was talking in hushed whispers by the water cooler, glancing in my direction every few minutes. I felt raw, exposed, like my skin had been stripped away and I was nothing but nerves.
When I saw Julian’s office door closed—blinds drawn, phone light blinking—I knew it had happened. I didn’t need to hear the words. His wife knew. Not just in the abstract, not just as a suspicion, but truly, finally, knew. I wondered if she’d screamed. If she’d cried. If she’d thrown things at him or just stood there, icy calm, like she always seemed.
I spent mos
