“Interesting. What does your partner do now? Is he semi-retired too?” My back stiffened and I stared straight ahead. I didn’t want to talk about him. “No.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Sorry,” she said softly, then walked toward her office. I let out a breath, feeling shitty. Some things in my past were classified. I literally couldn’t talk about them. Those secrets weren’t hard to keep. It was the ones I could talk about, but chose not to, that seemed to weigh the heaviest. But that was simply something I had to bear.
