ELENA’S POV
I needed answers.
I walked back to his room, hoping this time I could break through the confusion surrounding him. Something wasn’t right, and my gut wouldn’t let it go.
He looked up as I entered.
“Are you forgetting something?” he asked.
“Not really,” I replied calmly. “I just wanted to talk. I realized you’ll be getting married tomorrow, and I might not get the chance to speak with you again, like we used to.”
He raised a brow, then tapped the couch beside him. “Sit.”
I did.
“You remember the first day we met?” I began. “You came looking for that great artist, me, after I refused your first invitation. That day was hilarious.”
I watched him closely.
He paused, as if retrieving a distant memory. “How could I forget? You were stubborn. Still are. But look where we are
