ADRIAN
Something was off about her.
I noticed it long before dinner ended. Long before she pushed her plate away and claimed she wasn’t hungry. Long before she excused herself with a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Sloane wasn’t loud. She never was. She didn’t talk just to fill space. She listened. She watched. She chose her words carefully, like she understood the weight they could carry.
That was why last night bothered me.
She was cold. Not rude. Not distant in an obvious way. Just… closed. Her shoulders stayed tight. Her gaze kept drifting. She barely touched the empanadas, and she loved empanadas. I’d noticed that weeks ago. Small things stuck with me when it came to her.
At first, I assumed I was the problem.
That thought didn’t sit well.
If she felt uncomfortable sh
