Jealousy

The moment Sammy stepped out of Micheal’s office, her heart pounded with a storm of rage and humiliation. Her polished heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she strode toward the elevator. She couldn’t believe how quickly things had spiraled out of her control, nor could she forget the protective anger in Micheal’s eyes when he called Yvonne his woman. The word echoed in her mind, each repetition stoking her fury.

By the time the elevator doors slid open on her department floor, Sammy was fuming, her anger threatening to boil over. As she stepped out, she nearly collided with David, who was anxiously pacing back and forth in front of the elevator.

"Sammy!" David’s face, usually so composed, was drawn with worry. He reached out, gripping her shoulders tightly. "What happened? Are you okay?"

For a moment, Sammy basked in his concern. His fingers were warm, his tone soft and almost tender—the kind of attention she’d longed for. But the reminder of what had just happened soure