For half a month after returning home, I stayed indoors, spending my time watching movies with my parents and occasionally going out for walks.
A few weeks later, there was a sudden, urgent knock at the door.
My mother glanced through the peephole, her expression turning ugly. "It's Ethan," she spat.
My expression remained unchanged as I simply said, "Let him in."
Reluctantly, my mother went to open the door. When he walked in, my father didn't even spare him a glance.
Ethan looked at me with a complicated expression, his Adam's apple bobbing. "How's your health?"
"It's fine."
"Does the wound still hurt?"
"Not anymore."
Our back-and-forth was as distant and polite as strangers.
Ethan clenched his fists, then slowly released them. "Tessa," he began, his voice hoarse. "I came to te
