Zane's phone rang for the third time, vibrating insistently against the glass table. He didn't move to pick it up.
Lyra glanced at it, noting the caller ID flashing across the screen: Camille. She didn't ask — she didn't want to.
"Are you going to answer that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No," he said simply, sitting beside her. "It's not important right now."
But the look in his eyes said otherwise.
Lyra turned away. "You say you want to be involved. You say you want to protect me. But I don't even know what I'm walking into. Who is she, Zane?"
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his jaw. "Camille is… complicated. We were engaged. It ended before I met you, but she still thinks we're unfinished."
Lyra's stomach twisted. "And are you?"
"No," he said firmly. "It's over. I just never fully closed the door. Until now."
She wanted to believe him. But the pit in her stomach wouldn't go away. There was too much unsaid. Too many shadows around his name.
Zane stood and walked to the window, hands in his pockets. "I'm trying, Lyra. I didn't ask for this. But I'm not running from it either."
She watched him, unsure of what scared her more — his honesty… or the way it made her want to stay.