Maison du Verre—an exclusive, glass-walled restaurant nestled in the heart of downtown. Elegant. Discreet. Intimate. Owned by Alistair Montgomery, her brother's longtime friend and business partner. Their families had been close for years, having grown up together in the same elite neighborhood. Alistair was tall and reserved, with sharp features and steady gray eyes. Calm and composed, he was loyal and careful—the kind of man who rarely revealed more than necessary.
Of all places…
"Why would Adrian take her there?" Zara murmured, her voice hollow.
"I don't know," Simone replied gently. "But I thought you should see it before it spreads. People are already talking."
Zara's mind reeled. She couldn't believe it was a romantic date. Adrian wouldn't. Not after everything.
Driven by disbelief, she headed straight to Maison du Verre. She parked hastily and made her way toward the restaurant. Near their table, just out of sight, she heard his voice.
"I'm not seeing anyone. I never make promises I don't intend to keep. Love's never been part of the equation. I don't let things get complicated. Whoever I've spent time with—they knew what it was. Nothing more."
The words hit her like a slap.
Zara staggered back, unseen, her breath stolen.
Her world tilted. Her heart didn't just ache—it recoiled.
Just like that, whatever fragile hope she'd clung to slipped through her fingers.
Still, even after hearing those words, she couldn't leave. Not yet.
She waited in the parking lot, desperate for a chance to talk to him. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe she misunderstood. Maybe those words didn't mean what they sounded like.
She gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the restaurant doors as if they were the only thing holding her together. Her heart pounded, every beat clinging to the faintest thread of hope.
Minutes passed.
Then the glass doors swung open.
Adrian walked out—with Tanya beside him. He was laughing.
Zara froze. She'd seen him laugh before, of course. But this laugh was different. Easy. Unburdened. Like nothing was weighing him down. Like there wasn't a woman who had waited hours just to see him—to ask why he kept avoiding her as if she didn't matter.
She ducked low behind the tinted windows, whispering under her breath, "Why am I hiding?"
Her breath hitched.
Tanya reached up and brushed something from Adrian's collar, her hand lingering a second too long.
He didn't pull away.
Zara swallowed hard, her throat tightening.
She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not again.
Jaw clenched, she started the engine, blinking away the tears that burned behind her eyes.
She felt like a fool—like the punchline of a cruel joke.
Was her father right all along?
Had Adrian only used her? Played with her?
Who was she to him—a secret? A mistake? A convenience?
Humiliation scorched through her. Disgust followed close behind.
So she left.
Not because she was done. Because she refused to let him see her break.
***
She didn't know where she was going.
She just needed to get away—from him, from the truth, from everything.
Hands gripping the wheel, she drove with no destination in mind, the city blurring past in a haze of lights and memories. Street signs meant nothing. Time slipped by unnoticed.
She didn't realize where she was heading until the iron gates came into view.
Her foot eased off the gas.
The cemetery.
Of all places—her mother's grave.
Her heart twisted. Maybe it wasn't a mistake after all. Maybe this was where she was meant to be.
She stepped out of the car. The night air was cool against her skin, but she barely felt it. Her feet moved on their own, guiding her down the familiar path until she stood in front of the simple marble headstone.
Her mother's name was carved into the stone, a quiet reminder of loss.
And then the emotions she'd kept inside started to surface.
The hurt, the confusion, the frustration.
It washed over her suddenly.
She sank to her knees, her hands resting on the cold ground as tears began to fall.
She cried quietly, the weight of everything settling heavy in her chest.
No words came—just the soft sound of her sadness in the stillness of the cemetery.
Then—a hand landed gently on her shoulder, grounding her.
She flinched and turned, startled—only to find someone tall standing behind her.
Solid. Steady. Familiar.
"Alistair?" Her voice cracked. "What… what are you doing here?"
"I saw you at the restaurant earlier," Alistair said softly, his gaze steady. "I followed you here."
Zara blinked, still trying to process the weight of everything—the betrayal, the silence, the unbearable ache.
"I didn't want to intrude," he added. "Are you done here?"
She didn't trust her voice, so she just nodded, brushing the last of the tears from her cheeks.
He hesitated, then offered gently, "Are you hungry? Come on. Let me take you somewhere. Just get in the car. You don't have to say anything. Just let me drive."
Zara looked at him—really looked at him. Calm, collected Alistair. Always in control. Always watching.
And for the first time today, something in her chest eased.
Maybe she didn't need answers right now. Maybe she just needed not to be alone.
Silently, she got in.