(Angela’s POV)
“Angela.”
The way William spoke my name startled me a bit. It wasn’t harsh or loud, yet it didn’t sound like the voice of the man whose presence I had grown used to—the man whose words once stirred something warm in me.
It was unusual—so unusual that for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I was having a nightmare.
“I didn’t expect you back tonight,” he added, his tone carrying a carefulness, like someone holding fragile glass in feeble hands.
I stood in the doorway of our living room, my hand still resting on the polished knob as if keeping my escape route open. I hadn’t thought of what to say. No words felt safe on my lips.
“You weren’t supposed to,” I managed at last, my voice hoarse from disuse.
The silence that followed pressed against me. He stayed where he was, se
