Friday night did come, and yes, we did have sex.
And then some.
We also slept in late on Saturday morning, tangled up in sheets until nearly noon because someone kept going until my legs gave out. Not that I'm complaining.
The rest of that weekend blurred together in the best way possible. Laughter over breakfast, her hair messy and haloed by sunlight. Work calls we both almost ignored. Her stealing my coffee because hers was "too hot."
It was perfect.
And the week that followed... perfect too.
But that was two weeks ago.
Somewhere between those days, we'd found a rhythm again. A strange, delicate kind of balance. One that only made sense to us.
She worked from her office when she's at home, and I worked from mine. Different companies. Opposite sides of a corporate chessboard. But once we stepped out of those buildings, once the world clocked out and the titles fell away — Chairman's daughter, Financial Analyst, Lead Business Strategist, Deputy... none of it mattered.
