Page 94 of Say My Name

Dominic comes around the desk. He stops beside my chair and holds out his hand.

“What?”

“We made a new agreement.”

I pull my hand back. “This isn’t legally binding.”

“Neither was your positive test.”

I put my hand in his. “You’re going to hold that over me forever, aren’t you?”

“Only until you stop trying to explain desire as a measurable health benefit.”

His fingers close around mine, firm and warm. We don’t shake. He holds my hand for a beat longer than a handshake, then releases it and heads for the door.

“Dominic.”

He looks back.

“I did want you that night.”

His smile disappears. “I know.”

He opens the door and returns to his office.

For the rest of the afternoon, I work through meetings, revise a financing model, and answer two dozen emails without making a single mistake. Nothing about the executive floor looks different. Maya moves between our offices. Phones ring. By late afternoon, the light outside has gone gray.

When I lift my head from the final page of the model, Dominic is standing across the hall near his office windows.

He’s looking at me.

The next time we try to conceive, one of us has to ask. There will be no appointment or clinic procedure to hide behind. I chose that method, and Dominic knows how hard it is for me to say I want him.

Dominic doesn’t look away.

Neither do I.

CHAPTER 14

Dominic

The top binder hits the elevator floor on Wednesday morning just as the doors finish closing.

Elena swears and tries to catch the next one with her elbow. She has three binders stacked against her chest, a leather portfolio wedged under one arm, and her laptop bag yanking her right shoulder down. Maya stands beside her with two coffees and the look of someone who offered help several times and has now decided to enjoy the consequences.

“I told you,” Maya says.

Papers slide across the floor around her heels. “This is one binder,” Elena says.

“That is one binder’s worth of paper.”

I crouch before Elena can attempt it in a fitted skirt and four-inch heels. She lowers the remaining binders to the floor, and all three of us reach for the pages.

“I had it,” Elena says.

“You dropped it.”

“The cover failed.”