For the next few days, Lena buried herself in the hospital. At first, she told herself it was because of her father. But deep down, she knew she was also avoiding home. Avoiding Rhys. Ever since that night, something between them had shattered.

Rhys never brought up the photographs again. Never asked another question. Never raised his voice. That somehow hurt even more. He barely spoke to her now. Sometimes she would hear the front door open late at night, only to realize he had already returned from work.

Other times, she would catch sight of him in the kitchen or living room. But the moment their eyes met, he...