Alex’s POV
I told myself I wouldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t replay the way Rhett’s voice sounded when he said, pretending you didn’t care. I wouldn’t let that ache settle under my ribs every time I remembered Gilda’s laugh brushing against his arm.
Yet all day I did nothing except try not to think about it.
By evening, the sun dipped low. Mrs. Gunner called for me, her voice sweeping across the yard like a soft command I couldn’t ignore.
“Come, darling,” she said. “Walk with me and Nicky. He wants to see the horses before dinner.”
Nicky ran ahead, bright and loud in his excitement, the way only a child untouched by the weight of family names could be.
“He’s a lovely boy,” Mrs. Gunner said as we strolled toward the stables. “I see a little of Chaz in him.”
I glanced at her, startled.
