DOMINIC
She was hiding something. After everything we'd been through, secrets felt like betrayal.
Maya pushed her breakfast around the plate, not eating. Third morning in a row. I watched her from across the kitchen island, coffee growing cold in my hand.
"Not hungry?"
"Just tired." She didn't meet my eyes.
Tired. She'd been tired for two weeks. Tired and distant and disappearing into the bathroom at odd hours. I'd heard her crying last night when she thought I was asleep.
The old paranoia clawed at my chest. Marcus had taught me well: people hide things when they're planning to leave. When they've already checked out but haven't found the courage to say it.
"Maya." I set down my cup. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You've barely eaten in days. You're ex
