Emma sat at her desk, staring blankly at her monitor as the low murmur of voices floated through the open-plan office. The whispers weren’t even subtle anymore.
“Mrs. Blackwell.”
She heard it again half-joking, half-judging. A snide chuckle followed. Emma’s shoulders tensed.
She tried to focus on the document in front of her, but her fingers hovered motionless above the keyboard. No matter how hard she tried to drown it out, the weight of the stares, the smirks, the whispered speculation clung to her like a second skin.
When she finally stood to leave, she heard one last murmur: “Must be nice having a CEO as your knight in shining armor.”
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t respond. But her heart ached.
The elevator doors slid shut behind her, a welcome barrier from the watchful world. The moment she stepped out onto the street, a tall man in a dark suit emerged from the shadows nearby, nodding silently and following at a discreet distance.
Emma sighed.
Jonathan.