“You didn’t even notice my hair, Reo.”

As Adele storms into the penthouse, her stilettos clack like gunshots across the floor. Her voice is sugary sweet but wrapped in porcupine needles. She tosses her new silver-blonde curls over her shoulder as if daring him to miss them again.

Reo doesn’t even lift his head from his laptop. “You changed your hair?” His tone is dry. Robotic. Absent.

She throws her designer clutch on the table—right beside his espresso mug. It startles, spills slightly, but he doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week. I’m your fiancée, not some calendar appointment you keep rescheduling.”

He sighs, still typing. “I’ve...