Collins paced the floor of his apartment, each step echoing against the silence. His mind was a battlefield of questions, his thoughts tangled in a web he couldn’t unravel.
Cynthia.
Married.
The words from the mysterious phone call repeated in his head, over and over, like a broken record.
He gritted his teeth, his pulse hammering against his skin. Cynthia wasn’t the impulsive type.
She wasn’t someone who made rash decisions.
So how the hell had she gone from being the woman who begged him for honesty—to someone else’s wife?.
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his dark hair. He shouldn’t care. Not after everything that had happened.
Not after he walked away. But the idea of Cynthia, in another man’s arms, wearing another man’s ring—it made something insid
