(Michelle Lui's POV)
Jet lag.
The silent, invisible enemy of all travelers.
Most people look tired after a long-haul flight.
Me?
I looked expensive-but-slightly-dehydrated.
Which, okay, was still acceptable.
I woke up before Lara and Kate, quietly slipping out of bed since I was sandwiched between them like the filling of a friendship sandwich. The suite was warm and dim, city lights from Country A glowing faintly through the curtains.
I tied my hair into a loose ponytail, washed my face, and slipped into a lightweight oatmeal-colored sweater with dark denim jeans — effortless, casual, still chic.
Breakfast run with the gang felt like the perfect way to start our first full day.
But also…
A tiny part of me wondered:
Would Anthony even look at me today?
Or would he keep acting like we were strangers?
I sighed, pulled on my boots, and grabbed my coat.
By the time I stepped out to the living area, I spotted movement from the corner of my eye.
Steven Sy.
