Sienna

For a moment, I didn’t move.

Her question hung there, heavy, like she’d peeled the silence open and left my heart exposed.

Do you really love him?

I turned slowly to face her. The lamp by the nightstand threw a soft gold light across her face—tired eyes, gentle lines, the kind of sadness only a mother could wear. She didn’t look angry. She just looked... worried.

I swallowed hard, my voice small. “Why are you asking me that?”

She gave a faint, bitter smile. “Because ...