Adrian’s fingers tightened around the bouquet as he stepped into the high-rise building’s elevator. The air inside was laced with lemon-scented cleaner and the faint echo of classical music playing from a small speaker overhead.

  The doors were just about to close when a hand slipped between the panels.

  Adrian looked up.

  “Noah.”

  Noah Wellington stepped into the elevator with the casual grace of someone who belonged anywhere. Dressed in a fitted black shirt that clung a little too well to his frame, he offered Adrian a smile—tired at the edges but warm, nonetheless.

  “Hey, stranger,” Noah said. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”

  Adrian returned the smile, brief and tight. “Wanted to surprise Sarah.”

  Noah’s eyes flickered. “She’ll love that.”

  Adrian nodded. “You headed out?”

  “Just grabbing coffee.” Noah paused, studying him for a beat. “Join me?”

  “I’ve waited long enough,” Adrian said, shifting the bouquet. “But maybe later tonight?”

  Noah’s smile faltered, just for a second. “I’ll be waiting.”

  The elevator chimed as it reached Sarah’s floor. Adrian stepped out. The doors began to close, and just before they sealed shut, he heard Noah’s voice, low and clipped.

  “Yeah. He’s here.”

  The elevator hummed down.

  Adrian stared at Sarah’s apartment door. A familiar pale blue. The one he’d helped her paint when she first moved in.

  He hesitated.

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  For a moment, the flowers felt too bright in his hands. The pocket watch in his coat ticked softly against his ribs.

  Then he knocked.

  The door swung open within seconds.

  “Adrian?” Sarah’s voice cracked with surprise and delight, her eyes wide and shimmering. “What are you—oh my God!”

  She threw herself into his arms, and he caught her instinctively, breath punched out of him as her arms curled tight around his neck. She smelled like lilies and something sweeter—amber, maybe. A little too sweet.

  He laughed as he lifted her off the floor and twirled her once, the hem of her dress fanning out like a spun petal. She squealed, then clung tighter.

  “I missed you,” she whispered into his shoulder.

  He set her down gently and handed her the bouquet. “For the lily lover.”

  Her smile widened, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

  “There’s more,” he added, holding out the small wrapped gifts. “From a little vintage stall I found.”

  Sarah tore into the paper with exaggerated excitement, gasping at the mirror and the hairpin like a child on Christmas morning. “These are gorgeous. God, you always find the prettiest things.”

  Adrian smiled.

  But something itched at the back of his mind.

  She was… too excited. Her laugh louder, her kisses quicker, her eyes flicking around the room like butterflies too scared to land.

  “I’m parched,” he said casually, walking into the kitchen.

  She followed close behind.

  He reached for a glass, then froze.

  Two half-empty glasses of red wine sat on the counter.

  The scent was still fresh—dark, ripe, and clinging to the air. He turned his head slightly, gaze narrowing.

  Before he could speak, Sarah jumped in, too fast.

  “Oh—Noah dropped by. We were catching up,” she said lightly. “He left a little while ago.”

  Adrian stared at the glasses. His jaw tensed.

  Noah wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Not with the medication.

  But he pushed the thought away. He didn’t come here to start fights. He came to close distance.

  He turned, took Sarah’s hand.

  “I missed you,” he said, and meant it.

  She pulled him into a hug again, arms wound tight, face buried in his chest. But this time, he noticed it.

  The perfume clinging to her skin wasn’t hers.

  It was musky. Masculine. One he knew.

  Matt’s.

  Something cold unfurled in his gut.

  Sarah stepped back with a bright smile, brushing hair from her face.

  “I wanna wear the pin,” she said, holding it up.

  “Let me,” Adrian offered, stepping behind her.

  He gathered her hair in a messy twist, fingers brushing the nape of her neck. As he tried to slide the pin in, it slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor.

  They both bent down to retrieve it at the same time.

  And that’s when he saw it.

  A pair of men’s shoes. Hidden awkwardly under the kitchen cabinet—worn brown leather, laces tucked in.

  They weren’t Noah’s.

  They weren’t his.

  He looked up.

  Sarah was staring at him.

  And in that quiet, frozen moment… she knew.

  She had been caught.