~CELINE~

A warm breeze rustled through the garden as I watched Caesar chase butterflies through Eleanor Reid's prized rose bushes.

It had been a week since that night in the wine cellar—a week of stolen glances, careful avoidance, and the heaviest silence I'd ever experienced.

"You're doing it again," Caroline said, swirling her wine glass lazily as she lounged in the wrought iron chair beside me.

I pulled my gaze away from Caesar. "Doing what?"

"That thousand-yard stare." She took a ...