Cain had been treating me like I didn’t exist for hours. After he arrived home, he moved around as though I were invisible. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at me—just went about his evening with a cold detachment that made my chest ache.
I busied myself with chores I didn’t need to do, pretending his indifference didn’t bother me. I cleaned the already spotless countertops. I rearranged the living room cushions. I even scrubbed the kitchen sink twice. But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, his silence loomed over me like a storm cloud.
When night fell, the tension in the house only grew. Amanda had retreated to her room hours ago, leaving just Cain and me. He sat in the dimly lit study, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his sharp features. I lingered by the do
