Connor’s expression hardened. “Of course I care. Don’t twist this into something it’s not. I slipped up. I’m human.” But the damage had been done. Her heartbreak had found a target. And that night, in their too-quiet house, the first real crack in their marriage began to show.
Connor slept in the guest bedroom that night, and neither of them brought it up the next morning. There was no apology, no follow-up conversation—just quiet avoidance. But Julia couldn’t stop thinking about that scent. The smoke, yes. But also something else she couldn’t name—something that didn’t belong.