Jonah's POV

She drifts around the kitchen as though it’s second nature for her to be there, moving with a familiar grace that stirs a sharp ache in my chest. It reminds me of how she used to glide across our own kitchen, humming softly as she brewed my coffee in the morning. Those small, tender rituals are gone now, and she never hums when I’m nearby anymore.

Her earlier words echo relentlessly in my mind—her insistence on settling the divorce before we ...