Ariana’s POV
Marco’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies me, the faintest crease forming between his brows.
“What is it?” he asks softly, but there’s a trace of warning in his tone—the kind that says he won’t let me dodge the question again.
Exactly… What did I want to tell him?
How did I even want to start?
Why did I open my mouth in the first place?
The weight of the letter—my mother’s manipulation—still presses heavy in my chest.
My heart beats in uneven rhythms to my thoughts.
“Ariana, you’re zoning out again,” Marco says in a low voice, calm but enough to pull me back.
“If there’s something bothering you, just tell me. I’m not so busy that I wouldn’t care about what’s on your mind if it’s affecting you to this extent.”
He sounded so genuine. For a moment, I almost wanted to
