She sat on the edge of the supply truck, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the dust caking its surface. Her eyes followed Glenn as he worked, his laughter soft but genuine as he shared a moment with Maggie. She hated herself for the way her heart ached at the sight—it wasn’t fair to feel this way, not when they were so clearly happy together. But the connection she felt with him, the quiet understanding in the rare moments they spoke, gnawed at her resolve. She pulled her gaze away, swallowing the lump in her throat, and tried to focus on the task at hand, but his voice lingered in her mind, a bittersweet echo she couldn’t shake.