“I will wait outside, Amore.”
Nayla still didn’t react. There was no movement to suggest a desire to speak. She simply turned around and walked toward the bedroom corridor.
Nayla didn't refuse, yet she didn't agree. Allowing Damian to remain under the same roof wasn't a matter of true permission. Rather, Nayla simply lacked the energy to utter a single word. Her decision was born not of consent, but of a fatigue that had turned to stone.
“If you need anything, I’m right here,” Damian said again.
For the umpteenth time, Nayla did not open her mouth. The only thing Damian’s ears could catch was the sound of a door opening. Moments later, Nayla’s figure began to recede into the darkness.
Judging by the swing of her arm, Nayla had tried to pull her bedroom door shut again. However, h
