Chapter 172

• GUSTAVO
• I sat at my desk staring at the closed door she’d walked through ten minutes earlier. The city skyline beyond the glass looked hazy, like the whole world had gone soft around the edges. Her scent still hung in the air—something light and clean that didn’t belong in this room full of leather and old scotch. Every word from the argument replayed in my head. The way her voice cracked when she said she was tired of pretending it didn’t hurt. The way her hand lifted like she might touch me, then dropped. Each piece chipped at the wall I kept up. I told myself it was nothing. Just frustration. Just the usual push and pull. But the truth sat heavier than that. I felt her absence like a missing piece, and I hated it.
• I picked up the phone. Needed something solid to hold on to. Something I could control.