The ride home was quiet, yet inside Gigi, nothing was still. The driver’s voice murmured something about traffic as they slid past the glittering skyline, but she barely heard him. Her reflection stared back at her in the window—poised, composed, a woman who had taught herself long ago not to flinch in public. Yet the eyes looking back were troubled, restless.
Her evening had unraveled into something she could not have scripted. Jonathan’s warm presence, his easy smile, had given her a sense of calm—like she was seen for who she was, not just what she represented. And then Jason had appeared. Jason, with his relentless energy and his cutting stare, as though he had every right to intrude, to take space, to upend her peace.
Her chest tightened just remembering it.
By the time she entered
