Ayla's POV
The buildings outside the window began to change. Less glass and steel. More quiet streets. Softer lighting. Restaurants and boutiques replacing corporate towers.
I hesitated, then spoke. "Are we heading somewhere else first?"
She didn't look at me right away. "Yes."
"For work?" I asked, already assuming the answer. A client meeting. A last-minute obligation. Something urgent.
"Yes," she said after a brief pause.
I nodded, accepting it without question. Of course it was work. Everything with Elena was always work. Purposeful. Structured.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that the air inside the car had shifted again. That the silence now carried intention rather than avoidance.
I folded my hands neatly in my lap and turned my gaze back to the window.
Whatever this was, I told myself, it was still professional.
It had to be.
