Dinner had been torture.
Three long hours of smiling until her face hurt. Three hours of polite words that tasted like ash. Three hours of Noah's hand resting on her thigh under the table, warm and steady, while Landon sat across from them in silence.
He barely looked at her.
Which somehow hurt more than if he had.
The table was filled with expensive food and good wine. The kind of dinner people bragged about later. Laughter. Stories. Memories from childhood. Everything looked perfect from the outside.
Inside, Sienna was unraveling.
Every time she lifted her glass, she felt Landon's eyes on her. Not openly. Not obviously. But she felt it. Like a pressure on her skin. Like a warning she could not escape.
When Noah squeezed her thigh gently, she flinched.
He did not
