Sonya
The silence in the house was maddening.
Not the kind that brought peace or serenity but the kind that clawed at the walls and echoed down the halls like a slow, mocking laugh.
Ever since the debacle at Cheshire Enterprises, Caleb hadn’t spoken more than a few forced words to me.
His responses were clipped, his expressions blank.
He didn’t touch me. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even see me.
It was driving me insane.
I paced the length of our bedroom, my bare feet brushing against the edge of the thick rug, arms folded tightly across my chest as I thought of what to do.
Every attempt I made to speak to him at breakfast, in passing, even through messages, it was all met with cold silence or the pretense of distraction.
And I knew exactly why.
Sophia.
That name burned in
