Michael's POV
The phone buzzed against the mahogany surface of my desk, the screen illuminating with her name once more.
Allyson was calling again. This made it the eleventh time within the past hour.
I forced myself to stare at the financial reports spread before me, but the numbers blurred together into meaningless figures. My treacherous fingers kept drifting toward the device, wanting to silence it permanently by burying it deep in the desk drawer.
Yet I couldn't move. Every time her name appeared on that glowing screen, something twisted painfully in my chest.
The office had grown dark around me. Evening shadows stretched across the floor, and I remained frozen in the same position I'd held for hours, surrounded by nothing but the oppressive quiet and her relentless attempts to reach me.
I surrendered to the inevitable and grabbed the phone.
Thirty missed calls stared back at me.
Fifteen unread messages cluttered my inbox.
