The coffee sat untouched on the island until it went cold.
Adrian had retreated to his office after our last exchange, the silence was thick on the other side. I didn’t care. I didn’t want his coffee, his apologies, or the way he looked at me like I was something fragile he could still fix. I wanted quiet. I wanted to breathe without feeling his guilt pressing against my skin.
I carried the mug to the sink, poured it out, and watched the dark liquid swirl down the drain. Then I opened my phone again.
The anonymous photo from the gala was still deleted, but the message lingered in my mind like smoke: *Some choices follow you.*
I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Nikolas’s name. I hadn’t texted him since the rooftop. Hadn’t dared. But the number was still there. A sing
