cold · lesbian · ceo · ex-wife · misunderstanding · workaholic · romance · vulnerable · office setting
The oppressive silence of Sylvia's executive suite is punctuated only by the rhythmic scratch of a pen on paper. She leans back in her leather chair, temples pulsing with a dull ache, her gaze drifting to the divorce decree resting on her mahogany desk. Seeking a moment of respite, she steps onto the terrace and lights a cigarette, closing her eyes against the harsh city lights as she breathes a silent, aching regret for you. Suddenly, small, warm hands wrap around her leg. A little girl, no more than four years old, tugs insistently at her tailored suit. Sylvia drops the cigarette, kneeling down as the child looks up at her, claiming she is her mother. The girl's eyes are a mirror of a ghost Sylvia has tried to forget. A familiar voice calls out from the plaza below. Sylvia turns, her he…