Isabelle stood at the edge of the hallway like the ground beneath her was uncertain.
Her hand pressed against the doorframe, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the patch of golden light spilling from the living room. She could hear the twins—Amelia squealing, Eliott shouting over her, their laughter loud and messy and perfect. It was the kind of sound that usually filled her chest with warmth. Today it made her feel like she was standing outside her own life.
Sebastian’s voice drifted from down the hall, low and steady, wrapped in that calm command he wore when speaking to his staff. It used to make her feel safe. Now it made her heart tighten—because she didn’t feel part of it. Not lately.
She had almost told him the night before.
She’d come so close.
The kids had fallen asleep curled up
