Advance Copy
It's printed and about to break, but he wants her to read the original.
It isn't news to her but she'll have to spin it.
She isn't talking to him; he's a masochist.
She's banned him from her office; he's creeping in at 1am.
He places it in the middle of her desk, considers and rejects a note, turns to leave.
How did he miss her?
Not even sleep can smooth the lines that have burrowed into her face. He straightens the blanket, pulls it up over her shoulders.
Returning to the pages, he writes above his byline, 'I'm sorry.'