(Chris’s POV)
“Are you going to just sit there all night?” I asked, my voice breaking the heavy silence of William’s study.
He didn’t look up. He sat hunched over his desk, shoulders curved inward like the weight of the world had finally settled there and refused to leave.
The lamp beside him cast a pale glow, washing over the untouched papers, the glass of whiskey sweating into a neat circle on the brown table, and his knuckles, white from how tightly he gripped the pen.
“I’m not sitting,” he murmured, barely audible. “I’m waiting.”
“Waiting?” I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, leaning back with a sigh. “For what? For her to suddenly walk through those doors and pretend nothing happened?”
His eyes, tired and bloodshot, flicked up to me for half a second. Then back
