Isabelle’s POV

The message sat on my phone all night.

Unread by anyone else. Unanswered by me.

Just… waiting.

I saw it every time I walked by the kitchen counter. Every time I picked up my phone to check the time. Every time I reached for a podcast or playlist or anything that would keep me from hearing the echo of his words in my mind.

Just dinner. Just time. Just us.

It was the “just us” that rattled me.

Because “us” was never simple.

“Us” was pages of court filings. A ...