Elena's pov
I stood under the shower longer than necessary, letting the hot water cascade over me until it ran cold. Even then, I didn't move. My mind kept replaying the evening in fragments. Andre's polite smile across the candlelit table, the way he'd pulled out my chair, his careful questions about my work, my interests, and my life. And underneath it all, threading through every memory like a dark ribbon, the ghost of another man's hands on my waist in that darkened hallway.
I pressed my forehead against the tile, the coolness a sharp contrast to the steam still lingering in the air.
Two different men.
The thought should have been simple. Clear. But nothing about this felt simple anymore.
I'd gone to that restaurant expecting answers. Expecting to finally put a face to the voice I
