Miriam told me not to confront him yet.

“Let him submit the document,” she said.

“His conversation proves intent. A completed attempt gives us something far stronger.”

So when Sebastian came back Friday with airport-shop flowers and chocolates and kissed my cheek as if betrayal had no scent, I asked if he’d missed me, and said terribly when he asked me back.

Over dinner he set the blue folder beside my plate. “The company needs financing. Sign these tonight.”

I turned the pages slowly.