Aria
The villa had grown quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that presses against your ears and makes every small sound feel louder than it should.
I stood in the kitchen, watching the kettle slowly heat on the stove. The faint hum of the appliance filled the room, but it did little to calm the storm swirling in my chest.
Ethan’s words still echoed in my mind.
Things don’t need to get physical.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
Physical.
As if I were the kind of woman who would attack someone out of jealousy.
As if the last twenty-four hours of our marriage had already painted me into that corner.
I inhaled slowly and forced my shoulders to relax.
No.
Anger would only play into Tamara’s hands.
And something about today felt too deliberate to be accidental
