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    The next morning at eight sharp, Ynda arrived to pick Ian up. With fingerprint ess to his ce, she let herself in without a second thought.


    She set the breakfast she’d brought on the kitchen counter. Their call time was ten, and with no signs of him downstairs, she knocked on the master bedroom door. “Ian? You up?” she asked.


    To her surprise, the door wasn’ttched, and her gentle push made it swing open. Ahead, the ensuite bathroom’s sliding door stood slightly open, the sound of running water drifting out, along with low, muffled groans.


    Ynda froze. Through the steam, she caught a glimpse of Ian–his toned frame, his head tilted back, and water sluicing down his body. She stumbled backward, her hip smacking into the dresser hard enough to make her wince.


    Ian’s eyes flew open at the noise. Through the haze of the shower, he turned and spotted Ynda hovering in the doorway.


    Her face burned. She ducked her head and bolted.


    The water kept running. Ian’s muscles tensed under the spray. He looked down and dragged <i>a </i>hand through his wet hair, droplets flying as he reached for a towel.


    After drying off, he caught his reflection in the fogged mirror: jaw clenched, and something too sharp <i>to </i>name flickering in his eyes.


    Downstairs, Ynda sat stiffly on the couch, her pulse still hammering. In all her life, she’d never walked in on a man like that. Her skin burned, and her thoughts tangled into knots.


    She’d always treated Ian as just her friend,pletely ignoring how charming he was. But the image of him, water–slicked and sinfully built, burned behind her eyelids. She groaned, thumping her forehead with her palm.


    A movement in her periphery made Ynda nce up. Ian wasing downstairs, unusually quiet–not that he was ever talkative, but today, the silence felt deliberate. Like he was avoiding her after the bathroom incident.


    Heat prickled her neck. She scratched her cheek, staring at the floor. “Hey, uh, sorry about before. I thought you’d still be asleep. Didn’t mean to walk in on you showering. Well, I’ll drive you to the set. We’ll leave by ten.”


    Ian just slid into a chair, shoulders rigid as he unpacked the breakfast she’d brought without a


    word.


    :


    :>))


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    Ynda took a steadying breath. “Look, morning energy is totally normal. My bad for not calling first. Next time, I’ll make sure you know before Ie.”


    “It’s fine,” he cut in, voice low.


    She exhaled, relief loosening her shoulders. Then, almost against her will, a wry thought flickered through her mind. ‘Twenty–three–year–olds and their endless stamina. Between his boxing routines, that unfairly perfect face, and–well–everything else, some lucky woman’s going to have her hands full someday.’


    By now, Ynda had pulled herself together–hair neatly tied back, that fleeting blush long faded, her usual sweet–but–sharpposure firmly in ce.


    She slid into the chair beside him, watching as he picked at his food with deliberate slowness. An amused smile tugged at her lips. “Alright, let’s get you to the set.”


    Ian paused mid–bite, his eyes flickering to hers like he wanted to say something. But after <i>a </i>beat, he just pressed his lips together and nodded.


    It wasn’t until they were in the car that Ynda realized why he’d hesitated.


    The film crew was shooting on location for a fantasy drama, which meant the first month of production would take ce almost entirely in the mountains. And the drive there would take a solid four hours at least.


    She pinched the bridge of her nose. Last night, when she’d asked him about the schedule, he’d been vague. And like an idiot, she’d agreed without thinking it through.


    Ian buckled himself into the passenger seat, his voice carefully neutral. “If it’s too much


    trouble-” <fn181b> ?????? ???? find?novel</fn181b>


    The way he said it made it impossible for her to back out now. “No trouble at all,” she cut in, forcing cheer into her tone. “Pack whatever you need. I’m your agent and assistant now, remember? This is literally my job.”


    A faint smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. “Okay.”


    Ynda leaned against the car, arms crossed, as she watched him haul out his suitcase and backpack. With his casual clothes and slightly tousled hair, he really did look like some college kid heading out on a trip.


    Ian tossed his bags into the backseat before sliding into the passenger side again.


    They were about to spend over four hours in the car, so when Ynda passed a convenience store, she pulled over to grab some snacks.


    She hadn’t been out much these past two years, and as she drove, she couldn’t help but notice


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    the changes along the roadside. Spring had painted the city in bursts of color, flowers blooming in patches she didn’t recognize.


    “When did they nt all these? I don’t remember this section being so… floral,” she asked.


    “Two years ago,” Ian said simply.


    Ynda pursed her lips, forcing a tight smile. Just then, her phone rang. She pulled over to answer it, catching a glimpse of Ian stepping out of the car in her periphery.


    It was the maid from Moonbay Estate. “Mrs. Sinir, your wedding anniversary is the day after tomorrow. Should we decorate likest time?”


    Last year, Ynda had gone all out–candlelit dinners, fresh flowers, and the whole estate transformed into something out of a dream.


    But Charles never showed. He’d imed it was for ast–minute business trip, though sheter learned he’d been with Sophie. All she got was an emerald ne sent in his absence.


    This year, he hadn’t even mentioned the date. He must have forgotten, so she brushed it off. “No,” she said tly.


    “Should we still prepare the cake ingredients?” the maid asked.


    A bitter taste rose in her throat. Last year, she’d spent weeks perfecting a homemade cake, even taking decorating sses just to get it right. But he didn’te.


    Like so many other things–massages, creams, and borate meals–she’d learned them all for him. And for what? He was never home.


    She just answered, “Don’t bother. I’ll be busy. We’ll discuss itter.”


    The maid hesitated. Last year, Ynda had started nning a month in advance, while now, she wouldn’t even acknowledge it. The maid couldn’t imagine what mattered more to Ynda than Charles.


    Ynda hung up, exhaling slowly as she leaned back in her seat. Funny how things changed. Fifteen years of loving him, and she’d once believed she’d never walk away.


    But here she was, letting go, piece by piece. At least now, his absence didn’t keep her up at night. At least now, she no longer ached for his touch or hug.


    She sighed, lost in thought, until a burst of color caught her eye. A bouquet appeared, bright and vivid, like spring itself held in the hands.


    For a moment, she just stared. Thenn’s face emerged from behind the blooms. “An olddy was selling these down the road,” he said. “Said she grew them. Figured if I bought some, she


    could pack up early.”


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    The words snapped her back to the present. She took the flowers, lips quirking. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.”


    Ian slid into the passenger seat, buckling up without another word.


    Ynda bent to inhale the sweet, fresh scent. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sharp line of his throat, the way his Adam’s apple moved as he settled back.


    The awkward memory flickered, sudden and unbidden. Her breath hitched. Flustered, she tossed the bouquet aside and hit the gas.