Zoey’s POV
Rain tapped softly against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Christian’s penthouse, the city beyond blurred by silver streaks of water and scattered lights. The entire drive back from the cemetery had been quiet, but not uncomfortable.
The silence between us had changed recently. It no longer felt cold or forced, It felt full.
I stood near the entrance of the penthouse for a second after stepping inside, slipping off my heels slowly while Christian loosened the tie around his neck with one hand.
“You can stay for dinner,” he said casually, like the suggestion meant nothing, but something about it felt personal.
I looked at him carefully. “You sure?”
Christian glanced over his shoulder briefly, “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have asked.”
That answer made warmth settle quietly in
