Ever since that busy Monday, the week had turned into a very specific routine.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all started exactly the same way.
Bael would drive me to the Dingshan office in the morning, his fingers locked through mine on the seat, and the car doors wouldn't click unlocked until I leaned over and gave him his quick, dry kiss on the cheek.
I always rolled my eyes and complained about the time, but by Thursday, it was just our unwritten rule. We did it every single day, a little pattern that kept me grounded while the pressure of the upcoming presentation kept building up in my head.
But today is Friday. The morning of the actual presentation.
The car is pulled up to the curb outside Dingshan but we haven't moved.
