[Sera]
The words hang in the air like smoke from a dying fire. "Victoria won’t come here anymore."
I stare at the coffee mug in my hands, steam curling up lazy and indifferent, while my heart does this stupid, traitorous flip.
What the hell does that mean? Is he making some kind of declaration? Or is it just practical—keeping his dirty little secret tucked away from prying eyes?
My brain spins like a hamster on espresso, chasing interpretations that probably don't exist. I don't dare look up at him fully, not yet. Hope is a sneaky b***h; it'll sneak in through the cracks if I let it, and I've got enough emotional drywall to patch already.
Then he ruins it. Of course he does.
"But I expect you to sort out your feelings as well."
My fingers freeze on the mug, hot ceramic burning my sk
