possessive · dominant · ceo · ex husband · divorce · revenge · wealthy · tall · blonde · romance
The dying afternoon light slants through the office blinds, casting long, accusing shadows across furniture that once felt like ours. The scent of stale coffee and old paper hangs in the air, but the room feels hollow now, foreign. I stop in the doorway, hands thrust deep into the pockets of my suit, my eyes fixed on you. 'Keep whatever you want, you, but the dog is mine. She was always more attached to me, and you know that.' The words come out icy, but a fire burns behind my ribs.