CHRISTIAN
The air between us thickened, heavier than the cold night. Isabella still hadn’t pulled her hand away, but she wasn’t relaxing into my touch either. She was holding herself together, the way she always had—rigid, composed, like she was trying not to let me in.
She turned away, staring at the distant city lights, her grip tightening around her cup of hot chocolate. “It’s not just about you missing Nova’s birth, Christian.” Her voice was quiet, but the words hit like a blade. “It’s about everything. Everything before that.”
I knew what she meant.
Still, I forced myself to ask. “What do you mean?”
She let out a breath, a mix of frustration and something else—something raw. When she looked at me again, her dark eyes burned with old wounds. “You think it’s easy to just… trust yo
