Victoria stepped into her home, the door clicking shut behind her, the weight of the day still heavy on her shoulders. Her mind was still processing the evening with Zander—the laughter, the moments of connection. It had been a brief reprieve from the emotional wreckage her life had become. Yet, as she walked into the living room, her stomach churned with unease. There, sitting in the dim light on the sofa, was Daniel.

His posture was rigid, his face cast in shadows, but the anger in his eyes was unmistakable. He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her presence, as if waiting for her to make the first move. She could feel...