Zayn’s pov
I keep a smile pasted to my face even though Alina is standing inches from Elias. I do not want to blow up— not here, not now.
“Alina, I’m here,” I say, keeping my voice light. She looks at me, puzzled, then follows my gaze behind me.
“Zayn…that car—where did you get it?” Her brow lifts with curiosity. I don’t let the smile drop.
“For a friend. I borrowed it to come pick you up.” I shrug, pretending Elias doesn’t exist.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know. I could have taken a ride or an Uber.” Concern threads her tone. “How did you know I was here?”
“I went to your office. They said you were here, so I came.” I answer, cool.
She mentions Noami—“Noami would have told you”—but the truth sits heavy and quiet in my chest: Noami didn’t tell me anything, and I never went to
