Isabel’s POV
I watch as Alexander walks away, Cynthia’s arm entwined with his, comfortable, at ease. My chest tightens with a dull ache. What did I expect? Some foolish part of me years ago believed I was the one he wanted—someone he’d choose, again and again.
But now I know better.
Just as they move inside, I catch Collins falling back a few paces, his gaze lingering on Aria. There’s a flicker of something I can’t quite name—warmth, curiosity, maybe even longing—in the way he watches her. When Aria looks up and meets his eyes, she smiles, a soft, hesitant curve on her lips that hints at something deeper, something unspoken between them.
My mind flickers back to when I first noticed them together. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it—just a passing glance, a brief moment. But now,
