Emma sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze drifting to the sunlight streaming through the curtains.
She had finished dressing up, her outfit elegant yet casual—just enough for a simple lunch with an old friend. But her mind wasn't on Chris. Instead, it circled back to Alex, like it always seemed to these days.
What's he thinking right now? She wondered, her lips curling into a faint smile. It was almost noon, and she could imagine him pacing his office, pretending to be unbothered, yet stewing with jealousy.
Her laughter bubbled up as she remembered the look on his face the night before when Claire casually mentioned Chris.
His knuckles had turned white around his fork, and his jaw had tightened in that almost imperceptible way he probably thought no one noticed.
What a way to pretend he didn't care. She thought with a shake of her head, her smile still in place.