The air between them felt heavy. It had been two days since the argument. Two days of quiet dinners, polite conversations, and unspoken tension. Richard hadn’t brought up Victoria again, and Ann hadn’t asked. But the silence said enough.
Tonight, the city was calm. Rain tapped gently against the penthouse windows, and the soft sound of music filled the background. Ann stood by the kitchen counter, cutting fruit. Richard sat on the couch, reading something on his tablet. Everything looked normal, but nothing felt normal.
“Do you want some mango?” she asked without turning around.
He looked up. “Sure.”
She placed a few slices on a small plate and walked over. Their fingers brushed as she handed it to him. That tiny touch was enough to spark something. Their eyes met. Ann sat down, keepin
