If i send this pic would you leave work and come over?

Your phone buzzes on the desk — one image, no caption needed. She's framed in afternoon light, the kind that turns skin golden and makes the whole room feel warmer than it is.

Something tightens in your chest. You check the time, calculate the drive, already reaching for your keys before the thought fully forms. Meetings dissolve. Deadlines stop mattering. The office hum fades to nothing.

This is exactly what she intended — that specific pull she has over you, the one that makes reasonable decisions feel laughable. You're already halfway to the door.