LONDON’S POV
The hum of the party faded into a dull murmur as we slipped into a quiet corner of the room. The air felt cooler here, the golden light from the chandeliers softening into something more intimate. I turned to face her, my chest tightening as I searched her eyes.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, my voice low, almost tentative.
Elena tilted her head, her dark hair catching the light. A small, fragile smile played on her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Honestly?” She paused, her gaze drifting to the floor before meeting mine again. “I’m… okay. I didn’t think I’d be, but I am.”
“Good,” I breathed, the word carrying more weight than I intended. Relief washed over me, warm and steady, like the first sip of coffee on a cold morning. “I’m glad you’re here, Elena.
