I wasn’t supposed to be in Negril that long.

A quick flight, quick meet-up with a few land developers, then back to Kingston—or maybe even Miami. I was used to movement. I didn’t settle. Not in place, not in love, not in life.

But then I saw her.

She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t showing off like the rest of them on the beach that day. Her silence spoke louder than any bikini or loud laugh. It was the way she held her glass of white wine like she was above everyone—like she wasn’t there to impress, just exist.

And that impressed me.

Something about her aura felt... closed off. Like she had a million-dollar ring no one could see. But I didn’t care. I’ve always been good at reading women. And she wasn’t happy—no matter how calm she looked.

I watched her from the bar, sunglasses on, sipping my drink and pretending to care about the girl beside me.

Her husband showed up later.

Older man. Slick suit on a beach—dead giveaway. The type that treated her like an investment, not a woman. Kissed her cheek and turned his back before it even meant anything. She barely reacted.

I couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched when he left her sitting alone to go talk business over the phone.

She didn’t look my way once.

But something about her told me... she knew I was watching.

And she wanted me to.