The car door closed softly behind Kya as she slid back into the passenger seat, the box of pastries resting in her lap. Julian was finishing his call with his father, his voice clipped, his tone firm. When he hung up, he turned immediately to her.
“Kya,” he said, his brow furrowing. “What happened in there?”
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the ribbon of the pastry box. “I ran into Cecilia.”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “What did she say?”
Kya exhaled, her voice calm but edged with hurt. “The usual. She undermined me. Called me trash. Said I don’t know anything beyond being a housewife.”
"What did you say to her?"
"Nothing. It wasn't worth my time. She doesn't matter to me anyway."
Julian’s eyes darkened, his hand reaching across the console to cover hers. “Don’t listen to he
