It was past nine in the evening when the fingerprint lock clicked open and the security system let out its cold, mechanical chime. Griffin Williams stepped inside, swapping his shoes for house slippers and tugging wearily at his tie. He paused when he saw me sitting motionless on the sofa, his brow creasing slightly.
"Why haven't you left yet?" he asked, casually picking up the coffee mug from the coffee table and taking a sip.
I didn't answer. Instead, I kept my gaze locked on his face and asked, trying to sound casual, "Why are you back so late? Were you working overtime today?"
Griffin's Adam's apple bobbed as he set the cup down. A faint smile played at the corner of his lips, and he tousled my hair. "Yeah, it was a hectic day," he said, his voice completely untroubled. He wrapped an arm around my waist and brushed his cheek against mine.
"It's getting late. Shouldn't you be in bed already?"
I avoided his gaze and pushed the design plans toward him. "How did you manage to get any work done without the design plans?"
He hesitated, saying nothing. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd left in that morning, now slightly wrinkled from the long day. On his right wrist, a kid's bracelet stood out, jarringly out of place against his usual polished, put-together look.
Catching my stare, Griffin glanced down at his wrist and slid the bracelet under his sleeve, looking almost sheepish. "This is—"
"I already saw it," I cut in, meeting his eyes dead-on. "You didn't go to work. You spent the whole day with Claire Rodriguez, didn't you?"
I let out a short, dry laugh. "Your WhatsApp—you forgot to block me."
Griffin blinked, then grinned and gave my cheek a casual pinch. "What are you talking about? Claire and I have nothing going on. Why would I block you?"
"Her husband died unexpectedly at work. Given our past connection, it's only natural I helped her out," he explained. "I just didn't want you to read too much into it."
Past connection?
Here he was, discussing his history with an ex right in front of me. I lowered my head, clenching my fists, but said nothing. Griffin watched me for a moment before his patience ran out. He pressed a dismissive kiss to my forehead and turned toward the bedroom.
"Don't overthink it. I'm really tired today. You should get some sleep too."
The bedroom door closed with a decisive click, sharp enough to cut through my thoughts. I let out a bitter laugh. Griffin, who had always been impatient and never liked kids, once told me he wanted a child-free life. Yet now, he'd spent an entire day at the amusement park with Claire and her kid.
When we first met, Griffin had just broken up with Claire, and he'd been a shadow of his old self. We were both twenty-three, introduced by our families as potential matches—a casual romance that could lead to marriage if things worked out. Everyone assumed Griffin and I were strangers, but I'd noticed him back in high school. Back then, Claire was his girlfriend.
I'd believed time could change everything. But looking back now, our seven years together never measured up to his three years with Claire. In his heart, there would always be a place for her. My confidence seems laughable in hindsight.
I stared at that firmly shut bedroom door, my head buried in my knees as silent tears began to fall. Griffin, even at the end, you couldn't be bothered to say more than a few words to me about leaving.
That night, I didn't go back to the bedroom. Instead, I curled up on the sofa, lost in thoughts of a future that was now undeniably different.