SERENA'S POV
I watched Ivan and Maeve's boy walking side by side.
They were both wearing identical aviation jackets, decorated with flashy stickers that caught the sunlight. It appeared they had gotten close recently.
Ivan was smiling, gripping the boy's small hand in his. He looked protective. Happy.
In turn, the boy was gazing up at him like he hung the fucking moon, pausing their walk every so often to bounce excitedly on his feet.
I watched it all from the rooftop, sipping a cocktail even though it was still morning—far too early for alcohol. But this was what I had been reduced to.
I had always been a drinker, but my love for alcohol had doubled ever since Maeve showed up with her son.
Five years ago, I had taken everything away from her. And how could I not? It was never hers to begin with.
