Constance wouldn’t let the tears fall, but they threatened, her eyes growing cloudier with each step she took out of the building and out of the fantasy world she’d built in her head.

She had left her cell phone on her desk, and had debated leaving it for the night, but had gone back when she thought she might need it. And there’d been the not small chance she would see Milo, which was one of the main reasons she’d come.

How could she be so stupid?

So what if Milo had fucked her twenty ways from Sunday? That didn’t mean anything.

She didn’t mean anything.

Stupid of her to even get involved with him, and doubly stupid to get her feelings hurt. She knew exactly who Milo was, knew that she would never be more than a passing fling.

The drive home passed in a blur as Constance fought her tears and tried to convince herself she hadn’t heard what she heard, and that what he’d said didn’t mean what she interpreted it as. She was just overreacting, letting her wild emotions get the better of her.

She was a little calmer when she finally got into bed, but sill, she tossed and turned all night, wavering between disbelief and utter desolation, sprinkled with little moments of hope.

How was it possible that he could touch her so passionately when she meant nothing to him?

He never made her any promises. Ever. She knew him better, had to since they’d been so intimate. But nothing had changed, or at least she thought. The only way to know for sure was to ask, but something in her recoiled at that thought.

What would Milo say? How would he respond, and would she be able to handle that response? She didn’t know the answer to those questions, and one wasn’t clear when she finally dressed and went to work the next day.

She was exhausted, wary during the entire day, one that passed uneventfully.

Milo didn’t show up until well after lunch, and didn’t stop to acknowledge her at all.

That irritated her, but she pushed that feeling aside, chalking it up to Milo just being himself. By the time evening rolled around, she had decided to confront the question that had been hanging over her all day.

It was clear her mind wasn’t going to leave her alone, and better to clarify things, see if there was some misunderstanding, clear it up, and get back to normal.

She pushed the button and spoke into the intercom. “Milo, may I speak to you for a moment?”

“Yes,” came his response through the tinny speaker.

She exhaled, then went into the office, smoothing her hands down her skirt, reminded that this visit to his office was so different than the others that had come before it, Constance feeling nervous in a way she hadn’t in years.

“Milo,” she said on a deep breath when she came to a stop in front of him, his huge body towering over her. Despite herself, she still wanted him, her fingers trembling with the need to touch him. She pushed that feeling down and met his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t eavesdropping yesterday. I just left my phone and heard voices…”

“I wasn’t concerned,” he said, his stance and eyes daring her to contradict him.

The little flash of arrogance was not uncommon, yet it irritated her right now. But Constance ignored that and continued on. “I wasn’t listening in, but I couldn’t help but hear…”

Milo nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about this. Val is concerned,” he said.

“About what?”

“He thought you might have a misunderstanding of things.”

“Things like what?” she asked warily.

Milo wasn’t being clear, which was unlike him, and she couldn’t help but be alarmed by the direction this conversation was going.

“He’s worried you might be under the impression that there’s something more here. Between us,” Milo said.

“Something like what?” Constance’s wariness intensified as she watched Milo.

“He thought you might be confused about our status. That you might read into things,” he said.

“Why would I do a thing like that?” she asked, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.

He nodded, though, seeming to have ignored what she said. “Exactly. You enjoy our games just as I do. And you’re smart enough to know there’s nothing more to them than that,” he said.

“Our games? That’s what this is to you?” she said, angry though she couldn’t articulate why.

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is,” he said.

Constance felt like she had been slapped, and then felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

No, they hadn’t talked about whatever was happening between them, but she had convinced herself it was something more than games.

All of a sudden she began to shrivel inside, felt cold, cheap. She’d entered the office worried but certain they could navigate this conversation and get some clarity.

Now she just felt small, like a whore.

“Mr. Preston, I’m tendering my resignation,” she said.

For the first time in the years she had known him, Milo looked shocked. “What is this stupidity, Constance?” he asked.

He’d recovered from the shock quickly and was now taking his superior tone.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Preston. But I’m resigning. Good luck with your future,” she said.

She turned on her heels and marched out of the door, her vision again clouded with tears.

With every step she took, some small part of her hoped he would come after her.

He didn’t, and when the elevator doors closed, she let the tears fall.