As Elara stepped into the hotel suite, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps, her pulse hammered in her ears. The dim lighting cast soft shadows, making the room feel cocooned, intimate. But the coziness only added to her unease, as if each corner whispered doubts she'd tried desperately to suppress. Her eyes flicked to Amara, who had dropped her bag on the couch with an exhausted sigh and now stretched, utterly oblivious to the storm brewing inside Elara's mind.
Amara used to love him.
