Dante didn't come back for three days.
Three days of silence. No texts. No calls. Just radio silence while Sienna sat in her apartment and wondered if honesty had been the knife that finally cut them apart for good.
She didn't chase him. Didn't send apologetic messages or try to explain herself further. She'd said what needed to be said. Now he needed time to process it. She understood that. Respected it, even. But the waiting — the not knowing whether he'd come back or if this was the end — sat in her chest like a stone.
Jade called on day two. "Have you talked to him?"
"No."
"Are you going to?"
"When he's ready."
"Sienna—" Jade's voice was gentle but firm. "You can't just sit there waiting for him to decide whether you're forgiven. You kissed another man. That's... that's not a small thing."
"I know."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like you're trying to have it both ways. Dante and Alessandro. And that's not fair to anyone."
