Ashton’s POV
Something is wrong. My chest squeezes uncomfortably as I turn toward the kitchen where I can hear the clatter of crockery and the hiss of the coffee machine drifting through the doorway. Slowly, I push up from the couch and make my way toward the kitchen, stepping inside. I find Luna standing in front of the machine, her fingers gripping the granite worktop tightly, her head bowed.
‘Luna?’ I call out tentatively, inching closer warily as if I’m approaching a wild animal. Her body stiffens before she turns reluctantly around to face me, a smile plastered on her face that doesn’t reach her eyes.
‘Coffee should only be a minute, I can bring it through . . .’ she starts.
‘Luna’ I cut her off quietly, the younger woman’s voice dying away as if I’ve just shouted at her.
‘Do you
