The First Act
The dining room was warm with the scent of roasted garlic and herbs, the kind of cozy atmosphere that usually made Adria sink into her chair and let the world soften around her.
Tonight, though, her back was stiff, her shoulders drawn tight as if braced for impact.
The polished mahogany table gleamed under the overhead light, catching reflections of the bowls and platters Claire had fussed over all afternoon. Everything looked perfect, homey — except for the tight coil of tension in Adria’s chest.
Nathan sat directly across from her, tall, broad-shouldered, and irritatingly at ease.
He looked like he owned the space, lounging back with one arm draped over his chair, posture loose in a way that felt calculated.
His blue eyes were cool, unreadable to anyone else, but t
