Third Person POV
The study smelled of old books and jasmine perfume.
Riya sat at her oak desk, fingers tracing the spine of a book she wasn't reading. How to Become the Best Mother Possible. The title mocked her. She'd bought it three months ago, read maybe two chapters, gave up.
The chandelier cast warm light across her face—black hair loose around her shoulders, blue eyes unfocused, fair skin looking almost porcelain in the glow. The green pendant at her throat caught the light.
She turned a page without reading it.
Her mind was elsewhere. Where it always was.
On him.
"These words mean nothing," she thought, staring at a paragraph about "establishing healthy boundaries with teenage children." She almost laughed. Boundaries. Right.
Nothing in this book addressed what she actually needed help with.
