KANE'S POV
The TV was still on. I should’ve muted it, or maybe just smashed the damn thing. There they were Zane and Sibil, sitting like two devout saints on national television, spinning their sob story with so much performative grief, it almost deserved an award.
Zane’s voice grated through the speakers, calm and careful. Like a man deeply wounded by betrayal. And Sibil… God, her eyes watered on cue like she’d practiced in front of a mirror all night...who knows?maybe she had.
I clenched my jaw and turned back to the tablet in my hand. The photos from last night were already everywhere. Me and Aria stepping out of the limo. My hand behind her back, her dress catching the light just right. And that forehead kiss right there, captured mid-frame, like some perfect fairytale moment.
I
