He didn’t raise his voice— he didn’t need to. “How long have you been f*****g him?”
****
The restaurant was beautiful in that deliberately understated way.
Candlelight flickering across white linen, soft music floating from unseen speakers, a faint scent of rosemary and seared butter hanging in the air.
Ava sat across from Xander, her palms pressed together under the table. It was her favorite place.. their place— where he’d once asked her to marry him.
The nostalgia should’ve comforted her, but instead, it pressed like a weight against her ribs.
He looked calm. Too calm. A light gray shirt, sleeves rolled, his watch glinting under the dim light.
When he smiled at her, it was warm enough to make her want to believe that everything was fine, but deep down she felt it, Xander was up
