Daniel refused to give up. He started sticking close to Serena, waiting for her to come back to him.
When Serena went to the bakery, he would stand on the street corner; when she went to the art supply store, he would sit on the park bench across the road.
He did not approach her, nor did he speak. He only watched her in silence, with those bloodshot eyes of his.
Serena tried her best to ignore him, but that constant, shadowing stare still made the back of her skin crawl.
"That handsome, melancholy man—he's your ex-husband, right?" Mary, the bakery owner, nudged her chin toward the door.
Serena followed her line of sight—Daniel was standing under the sycamore tree.
Mary lowered her voice. "He comes every day to buy your favorite butter croissant, but he never eats them. Oh my God, th
