Chapter 12

Hugh had leaned in at some point, his sharply defined features close enough for her to see every detail. His dark eyes reflected nothing but her. The next moment, Serena felt a firm hand grasp her chin. His grip was strong and unyielding, and he tilted her face upward with quiet authority. Her head tipped back until their eyes met, locked in an unspoken tension. His lips parted slightly. "But now, you're Mrs. Larson. Those old cards from the past—shouldn't you get rid of them?" His deep voice, smooth as a cello's melody, carried no anger. If anything, it sounded almost gentle. Serena's long lashes fluttered as his fingers retreated. She picked up the card again. The memories that once felt sweet now carried nothing but pain. She heard herself saying, quietly but firmly, "You don't need to tell me. I would've taken care of it anyway." Hugh let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his expression unreadable. It seemed she still hadn't let go of that man. Soon enough, the car pulled