Page 142 of Say My Name

Maybe I didn’t include those things because I believed they were temporary. Maybe I was afraid that writing them down would force me to admit I don’t want them to be.

I close the laptop and pick up my phone again.

There is still no message from him.

I carry it to bed with me anyway.

Monday morning, Dominic is already in the executive conference room when I arrive.

He glances up from the report in front of him. Relief moves through me so quickly I almost stop in the doorway.

“Morning, Elena.”

His voice is warm. His expression is pleasant. He sounds like the CEO of Rowe Holdings greeting one of his executives before a weekly meeting.

“Good morning.”

My chair has always been three seats from his. Today, the distance feels deliberate even though I’m the one who chose it months ago.

The meeting lasts forty-seven minutes. Dominic asks precise questions and treats my recommendations with the same confidence he always has. When another executive challenges an assumption in the cash-flow forecast, Dominic backs my conclusion without hesitation.

He doesn’t punish me or undermine me. No one in the room would suspect that he ate dinner at my table last night and left after ending the most intimate relationship of my life.

When the meeting ends, everyone gathers their laptops and coffee cups. I take longer than necessary closing a file, waiting for the room to clear.

Dominic pauses beside my chair.

“The revised numbers were good.”

“Thank you.”

For a second, I expect the rest. A quiet question about whether I slept. A reminder that the yogurt I brought for breakfast isn’t enough food. One of the personal observations he tucks into professional conversations because he notices everything and pretends he doesn’t.

His eyes remain on mine for one beat. Then he nods and walks away.

The absence of his private attention follows me back to my office.

By lunchtime, I understand how thoroughly he can remove himself without changing a single visible thing.

He responds to my emails. He includes me in decisions that belong within my role. When we pass near the elevators, he smiles and holds the door for me.

He simply stops giving me anything that belongs only to us.

No text asking whether I’m free for dinner. No unplanned visit to my office. No hand at my back when no one is watching.

The office is exactly the same. I’m the one who no longer fits inside it.

I open our contract during lunch, telling myself responsible adults review the termination provisions when an agreement ends.

The first pages are full of evidence that Dominic was right.

Donor obligations. Parental rights. Independent households. Emotional boundaries.

Every clause I wrote to protect myself describes two people who stopped existing months ago.

I close the document before I reach our signatures.

At three, I make a change to the forecasting model, stare at it for several minutes, and change it back. My concentration disappears every time Dominic’s voice carries from outside my office.