“Do not make this difficult,” he said. “I have enough going on today.”

That almost made her laugh.

Difficult was leaving a senior finance role in London seven years earlier because he had held her hands in a small Boston apartment and promised they would build something together. Difficult was writing investor decks until three in the morning while Marcus slept, then watching him present her words as if they had been born from his own brilliance. Difficult was taking angry client calls in restaurant bathrooms so he could charm investors over wine. Difficult was sitting beside him at corporate dinners while wealthy men praised his vision and asked what she did, as if she were a decorative accessory.

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