The rest of the flight felt like walking through a minefield—long silences, evasive glances, and thoughts neither of them dared to speak aloud. Grayson couldn't stop thinking about the damn message.

'My love.' Those two words ate him alive.

Who the hell was it? Since when? And why was he torturing himself when he knew he couldn't have her?

Kate, meanwhile, had become colder than ice. Single-word answers. No eye contact. Each time he tried to get close, even if it was just to offer her coffee or a blanket, she ignored him like he was made of smoke. And even if her mouth stayed shut, her body made everything painfully clear: tense, guarded, ready to strike.

Then the pilot announced their descent.

They left the plane without exchanging a word and climbed into a blacked-out car waiting on the runway. The drive to the hotel was just as tense. Only the noise of traffic and the faint taps of Kate answering messages broke the silence. Grayson pretended to look out the window, but he