Aiden's POV
The office was quiet—eerily so. The only sounds were the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint rustling of papers whenever I shifted. The glow from my laptop screen illuminated the otherwise dimly lit room, casting sharp shadows against the polished mahogany desk.
I should have been working.
Should have been reviewing reports, responding to emails, preparing for another goddamn meeting. My fingers rested against the keyboard, poised as if they had something important to type, yet I hadn't typed a single word in the past thirty minutes.
Because my mind was elsewhere.
On her.
Marian.
My wife. My everything.
And she had been dying without telling me.
A sharp exhale left my lips, and I leaned back in my chair, running both hands over my face as if I could physically wipe away the thoughts swarming in my head. But they wouldn't leave. The cold weight of realization settled in my chest like a stone, heavy and unrelenting.
How long had she known?
