And followed her.
It wasn’t hard. The town was small, the night quiet—but the chaos inside me made everything feel unbearably slow.
I parked a street away when I saw her stop in front of an elegant, charming restaurant—far too charming to be innocent.
Then I saw him.
Tall. Well-dressed. Confident. The kind of man who walked as if the world rolled out a red carpet just for him.
He smiled when he saw her.
My fist tightened around the steering wheel as rage surged through my veins like acid.
I sat there in the dark, binoculars in hand.
Binoculars.
Something I had never imagined using outside corporate negotiations or strategic surveillance—never to spy on her. Never to watch Valentina with another man.
But I couldn’t look away.
They greeted each other with brief embraces. Easy smiles. Laughed. Sat by the window under candlelight.
And my chest ached when I realized that soft glow fell on them exactly as it would on a perfect couple.
I hated it.
Every detail was a direct hit to my chest—until something changed.
They weren’t looking into each other’s eyes. Conversation was shallow. Valentina nervously twisted the folded napkin in her hands. Her smile disappeared. Her body stiffened.
And when the man said something that made her freeze completely, a knot tightened painfully in my throat.
Even from a distance, even hidden, I knew.
Something had gone wrong.
Valentina stood abruptly, apologized quickly, and left—eyes fixed on the ground, breathing visibly shallow.
She looked like she was about to cry.
Or run.
I started the engine again without thinking.
I wouldn’t let her disappear. I would make sure she was safe—even if she hated me more for it. Even if every fiber of my body screamed to turn back and break the face of the man who had dared makemywoman want to cry.
I kept my headlights off, following at a distance.
Then her car slowed. Pulled over. A flat tire.
I watched her step out—tired, frustrated. Her shoulders sagged.
I turned on the headlights. Parked behind her. Got out.
She turned toward the light, shielding her eyes, her body stiffening as she recognized my car. My silhouette.
“No…” she whispered, disbelief rough in her voice. “You didn’t…”
