Elena's POV
I told myself I'd forget. That dinner with Julian would distract me, that his presence would settle the unease crawling beneath my skin. But the truth was—I hadn't stopped thinking about the note.
Even as I touched up my makeup in the office mirror. Even as I smiled when he texted, "I'm outside." Even as I slipped into his car and let him kiss my cheek like everything was fine. I was good at pretending. Too good.
Julian was talking about a new property deal—something big in Madrid. I nodded, laughed at the right parts, held his hand across the table.
But a part of me had checked out. Watching. Waiting. For what, I wasn't sure. Maybe another message. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
"Babe, are you okay? You seem off," Julian asked, eyes narrowing with concern.
"I'm fine," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just work."
"Don't stress too much." He reached across the table, fingers brushing mine. "I've been wanting to talk about us."
