Sean exhaled, long and low, like the weight of the past was tucked somewhere in that breath, refusing to be left behind.
The garden behind Danica's home was a quiet, fragrant sanctuary—roses blooming in lazy swirls, lavender bending slightly in the spring breeze, and the fading sunlight kissing everything in gold. Birds chirped in the distance, too cheerful for the conversation hanging between Alfred and Sean like a storm cloud waiting to burst.
They stood apart—close enough to speak, far enough to hide the intimacy of truth.
"I'm sorry," Alfred said, his voice lower than usual, a rare softness weaving through the edges.
Sean cocked an eyebrow, more curious than concerned. "Boss, what exactly are you apologizing for? Did you finally realize those team meetings could've been emails?"
Alfred chuckled softly, but there was guilt behind his eyes that humor couldn't mask. "I should've met you somewhere else. Somewhere less... emotionally loaded."
