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"I do."

She leans back against the seat and lets out a slow breath.

"I knew it the moment you kissed her at the wedding." Her eyes flick to mine. "That was the moment I realized I wanted a man who looked at me like that too."

That sits in my chest for a second longer than it should.

Maybe because she's right.

Maybe because it means even then— before France, before the studio, before I ever let myself name any of it— someone else saw it on my face before I did.

The car turns. My briefcase shifts beside me, and the cream envelope inside slides half free.

Sienna's eyes catch on it immediately.

Mrs. Aria Kauffman.

Then the embossed seal. Amaury Gallery.

She looks at the envelope. Then at me.

"You're carrying her mail now?"

I slide it back into the briefcase and close the clasp.

"It arrived at the penthouse."

"And?"

"And I haven't gotten it to her yet."

Sienna watches me for a second too long.

"That wasn't really an answer."

I say nothing.

Because I don't have a good one.

I could have given it to Everly this morning. Could have left it with Levi. Could have had someone drop it at the estate by lunch.

Instead it's in my briefcase.

With me.

Still.

"She's going to go, you know," Sienna says.

My jaw tightens. "I know."

"She should."

"I know that too," I say.

"You don't sound thrilled."

I look down at the leather case by my knee. After Christian gets the annulment papers finalized, Aria will be free to do whatever she wants.