Amelia’s POV
The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of rain against the window. I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the steam rising from the mug of tea in my hands. My thoughts weren’t here, in this cozy little home I’d built for myself and my son. No, they were tangled somewhere in the past—somewhere I thought I’d buried long ago.
That morning at the café had unraveled me. Seeing Daniel the second time, with her—Elena—had stirred emotions I wasn’t prepared to confront.
I had spent years convincing myself that Daniel was part of a chapter I’d closed. He had moved on, built a life for himself, and so had I. Yet here I was, replaying every glance, every word, every unspoken feeling.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered to myself, my grip tightening on the mug. “He doesn’t mat
