Third POV

The road stretched ahead, quiet and nearly empty. Streetlights painted soft gold lines across the windshield, flickering over Lola’s tired face.

Morgan’s hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw tight, his eyes shifting toward her every few seconds.

She leaned her head against the window, her reflection pale against the glass.

The silence was too long.

Finally, he spoke.

“How long have you loved him?”

His voice was low, steady, but something sharp hid under it.

Lola stirred ...