Is he really talking about marriage?
The thought lingered in Roxana's mind, fragile and disbelieving, as though even forming it too clearly might shatter whatever this moment was. It felt unreal—too sudden, too easily spoken, as if he had just placed something immense between them and expected her to accept it without question.
Until last night, she had been certain he no longer cared.
Certain that whatever had once existed between them had already been severed, quietly and completely.
And now…
Now he was here, in front of her, speaking of marriage as though nothing had ever broken.
Her chest tightened, not with warmth, but with something sharper, something that refused to be soothed so easily.
Because beneath the surreal haze, another thought rose, colder, and more grounded.
Why was he here?
