KENDRA
I should have driven home. I should have let the moment end where it did. Ethan’s shock frozen behind the café window, my car already halfway down the street. That would have been the smart thing to do.
But fury doesn’t care about smart.
By the time I circled back, my pulse had steadied into something cold. The same kind of calm I’d learned to wear in boardrooms full of men who underestimated me.
When I stepped out of the car, the air was damp with the faint smell of coffee and rain. The café lights spilled gold onto the pavement. I saw Ethan’s reflection before I saw him, his outline cutting across the glass as he came outside, scanning the street.
He spotted me almost immediately.
His expression shifted from surprise to something else, triumph, maybe. Like catching me in the
