angus thongs and perfect snogging

The smell of new leather and the glare of the white light of the open space hurt her eyes. Sophie stopped in front of the glass door of Magnus's office. The space, usually a refuge of silence and authority, vibrated with a tension she did not yet understand. Her husband's deep voice resonated, sharp, almost aggressive.

- I don't want to hear that. It will be as I have decided.

Another voice rose, higher-pitched, incisive, and exuding an almost casual assurance. A woman.

- You can play the tyrant if you want, Magnus. But without me, your little house of cards collapses. So, let's calm down and negotiate.

Sophie advanced slowly, slipping into the shadows. The silhouette of the woman was outlined behind the glass. Slender, upright posture. A red dress. Sophie felt dizzy. The scene before her seemed unreal, like a painting to which she did not belong.

Magnus, his fists clenched on his desk, listened in silence, an expression she didn't recognize on his face. A mixture of frustration and... respect?

- We'll talk about it again tomorrow, he finally said.

The woman gave him a cold smile, turned around, and left the room with slow, calculated steps.

Sophie didn't have time to hide. Their eyes met. The woman stopped for a moment, examined her, then continued on her way as if she didn't exist.

Magnus straightened up when he saw her enter.

- Sophie, what are you doing here?

She ignored his question, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the door the woman had just exited through.

- Who was it?

He sighed, exasperated, as if the answer didn't matter.

- Roxanne. A potential collaborator. Nothing out of the ordinary.

- Nothing out of the ordinary? Are you kidding?

Magnus walked around his desk, trying to calm things down, but Sophie took a step back.

- Why are you always in the drama? he got annoyed. Roxanne is going to work with me on sensitive projects, period.

She felt anger rising.

- And you're telling me this like I have no say in this? Like I don't exist?

Magnus raised his hands, a gesture he always used to end a discussion.

- We'll talk about it tonight, okay? Not here, not now.

But that night the words were even worse.

They dined in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates punctuating a palpable unease. Sophie wasn't hungry, but she mechanically cut her meat, her eyes fixed on her husband.

Magnus finally put down his fork.

- I wanted to wait for a better time to tell you, but given your behavior today... Roxanne accepted the job.