Chapter 30

Alex

Two weeks.

It had been fourteen days since Weston came home—fourteen days since the man who used to look at me as if I were his entire world stared at me like I was a stranger. Except I wasn’t a stranger. That was what made it so much worse.

If Weston had truly forgotten me, maybe I could’ve accepted it. I could’ve mourned the memories we’d lost and learned to love him all over again. But this wasn’t that. Because I still saw him. Every single day, every time he met my gaze.

Sometimes, for the briefest heartbeat, the real Weston resurfaced—the man who held me through nightmares, whispered that I was his miracle, promised that nothing in this world would ever make him let me go. And then something would shift. His hazel eyes would flicker—once a confused gray, once a startled green—before snapping back to that cold, unreadable glaze. The love would vanish, replaced by suspicion, anger, disgust. As if he were staring at an enemy, not his mate.