Elodie's POV—
The air was cold that afternoon, so sharp enough to sting my cheeks as I sat on the park bench. Leaves rustled above me. Across the path, a man leaned down to kiss his mate's cheek, his hand brushing tenderly over the small swell of her stomach. The glow on her face, the way he looked at her like nothing else mattered; it twisted something deep inside me.
I should have looked away, but I didn't. My chest ached with an emotion I couldn't name, half joy for them, half something darker, heavier. Something I didn't want to admit lived inside me.
"They look happy," Mila said quietly beside me.
"They do," I whispered, forcing my eyes down to my hands. My fingers were stiff from the cold, but they wouldn't stop fidgeting. "So how's work, babes?"
Mila didn't push. She never did.
