ALEX’S POV
I see them before they see me, that’s the cruellest part. Lavender is seated on the bench outside the flower shop, her posture folded inward like she’s trying to take up less space in the world. She looks smaller than I remember, thinner, fragile in a way that tightens something sharp and unforgiving in my chest.
And he’s too close, a man I don’t recognize, standing in front of her now, his body angled protectively, his voice low. His hand hovers near her arm, not touching, but close enough to signal familiarity, intimacy, ownership.
Something ugly sparks in my gut. I stop across the street, the city noise fading until all I hear is my own pulse pounding. For weeks I’ve been chasing shadows, empty addresses, dead ends, silence, and now she’s here, in front of me, with someone
