Before attending the reading of the will, Lena prepared herself the only way she knew how—by bracing her mind for impact.
She sat on the edge of the bed this morning with her hands resting over her abdomen, feeling the familiar heaviness, the constant pull, the quiet reminder that she was no longer just herself. She knew, with a certainty that made her chest tighten, that she would see Zayn today. There was no escaping it. And she also knew that sooner or later, inevitability would corner them into the same space, the same air, the same truth.
Her sister had asked her before they left.
Will you tell him?
Lena hadn’t lied. She couldn’t.
“I don’t know,” she had answered honestly, her voice tired but steady. “I’ll see when we’re face to face. Many things changed since we last saw each ot
