Lara's POV
Dinner with Marco felt like walking through a dream that I refused to admit I wanted. Everything was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache. The glowing lights, the soft music, the scent of the flowers he insisted the staff arrange just for tonight. It should have been enough to make me float. Instead, I sat there trying to anchor myself to the one thing that kept slipping through my fingers. My resolve.
I kept my expression neutral as we ate, pretending I did not notice how he watched me with quiet amusement, as if every small reaction I made was worth studying. I reminded myself again and again that this was just dinner. This was part of the arrangement. This was not real. I needed to keep my heart locked away because the last time I let it fall, I shattered so painfully I could still feel the pieces cutting me from the inside.
