Angela’s POV
I wasn’t even sure why I was here, standing in front of James’s study door in the middle of the night. My heart pounded as I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing. The question that had kept me awake finally drove me here, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted. But the uncertainty gnawed at me. Did he still love her?
I took a deep breath, trying to muster what little courage I had left, and pushed the door open without knocking. The study was dimly lit, and James sat behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed in that focused way I’d come to know well. When he looked up and saw me, a flicker of surprise crossed his face before he settled back into his chair, watching me carefully.
“Angela,” he said, his voice low and composed.
