“Jasmine,” Ethan began, his voice low, rough, almost foreign to his own ears. “I knew I was wrong for accusing you of drugging me. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Jasmine didn’t blink. She watched Ethan from where she was seated at the edge of the bed. Her gaze didn’t soften, didn’t waver — just cold and steady.
She had expected him to apologize for his wrongdoing, but instead, he was giving excuses, and that did nothing more than infuriate her more, though she remained perfectly calm.
“Is that all you have to say?” She finally said after a minute of silence. No traces of anger could be detected in her tone.
Ethan’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of the chair he sat on. He really wanted to apologize, but to him, begging was something sacred. He never begs. Not anyone, not even hi
