EMMALINE
After the exchange of words that I had with Alexander, the silence that followed was sharp, brittle, like a sheet of glass stretched too thin. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes, something raw, something broken, but I couldn’t let myself look at too closely. If I did, if I stared too long, I might unravel.
So I turned my face away, dragging in shallow breaths, refusing to give him more than that. Because if I softened, even a little, everything I’ve built to survive would collapse.
Still, he lingered. His presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating, pressing into the corners like shadows that refused to leave. I felt him in the air, in the silence, in the way my pulse thundered in my ears. For a moment, I almost thou
