Ridley sat in silence as Aileen spoke, his expression void of any happiness you'd expect from a man about to wed.
A hollow feeling consumed him, though he couldn't pinpoint its source.
He wasn't even certain what was eating at him.
For days now, Ana had invaded his thoughts—her features, the melody of her voice. Yet he knew he had no business thinking of her.
He shouldn't be dwelling on her at all.
Ridley kept reminding himself that Aileen was the one who truly mattered. His marriage to Ana had been nothing but necessity—all because of Aileen.
Every gesture he'd made as Ana's husband stemmed from obligation, never affection—or so he convinced himself. He'd always believed their relationship was built on guilt, nothing deeper.
'I never loved Ana, did I?' Ridley asked himself, clinging to that narrative.
'But what about now?' The thought crept in, catching him off guard.
