The drive stretched longer than Lena expected—not in distance, but in thought.
She watched the landscape blur past the window, sunlight flickering between trees, but her mind was far away. One sentence kept looping, sharp and unwelcome.
I was married before.
She hated how it lodged itself in her chest, how it stirred something small and ugly she didn’t want to name. Jealousy. Not loud or dramatic—quiet, insidious. The kind that made curiosity itch under her skin.
Who was she?
What kind of woman had been Zayn Specter’s wife?
Had he loved her?
Lena clenched her fingers in her lap, annoyed with herself. This was ridiculous. She had married him knowing there were gaps in his story. Knowing he was a man with shadows.
Still… the not knowing gnawed at her.
Zayn drove in silence, one hand
