Angela POV

Once they left, I slammed the door to my office behind me.

Few hours later，I pushed through the headache and finished organizing the papers, then headed to Sean’s office.

When I pushed open the door, I froze.

Christina was on her knees—right between Sean’s legs!

I never expected them to do something so shameless in the office！

Sean’s head snapped toward me, his expression a mixture of shock and panic. He scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over the chair behind him.

“Wait, this isn’t what it looks like!” he blurted out. “Christina accidentally spilled coffee on me, and she was just—”

My gaze flicked to his pants. A dark stain spread across the fabric, confirming part of his story. But I wasn’t interested in explanations. Who knew what had actually happened before I walked in?

Cutting him off, I stepped forward and placed the report on his desk with a sharp thud.“Here’s the report you need for this afternoon’s meeting.”

The room swayed slightly as I straightened, but I forced myself to remain steady.

“She’s clearly unwell,” Christina murmured to Sean.

I turned to leave before either could see how deeply the words had cut, but Sean’s voice stopped me.

“Angela, wait—”

“If there’s nothing else?” I kept my voice professionally neutral, not turning back.

His sigh of frustration followed me out the door.

But Christina called out to him, “Sean, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Sean didn’t chase after me. Instead, he went back to Christina.

“Don’t get upset,” I told myself. I should’ve seen this coming two years ago, right?

Back in my office, the pounding in my head had intensified.

“Angela?” Emily’s concerned face swam into view. “You really should lie down. You’re white as a sheet.”

“Just need to finish…”.

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but the office kept tilting at odd angles.

The last thing I heard was Emily’s startled gasp as the world went dark.

The gardens of Phillips Exeter Academy stretched out before me, perfectly manicured and dotted with graduating seniors in their formal wear.

I smoothed down my own dress – pale blue silk that had cost more than some people’s monthly rent – and tried to steady my nerves.

Tonight was the night. After years of careful friendship, of being the perfect study partner and confidante, I would finally tell Sean Shaw how I felt.

The timing was perfect – we were both headed to Ivy League schools, both part of the same social circle. It made sense.