Rafael had always believed that pain came in waves.

You survived one, caught your breath, and told yourself the worst had passed—only to realize later that the ocean never stopped moving.

The second realization broke him more cleanly than the first.

He stood in the dim corridor outside the conference hall, the glass walls reflecting a fractured version of himself. Inside, Alyssa was speaking—no, commanding—the room. Her voice carried through the speakers, calm and absolute, slicing through objections and silences alike.

Rafael didn’t need to see her to know how she looked.

Straight spine. Chin lifted. Eyes cold with purpose.

The woman he loved no longer existed in the way...