Elara
I kept telling myself that what happened with Damian was temporary.
That was the only way it made sense.
If I treated it like something brief, something that existed outside my real life, then I could keep it from bleeding into everything else. Especially conversations I didn't know how to have.
Like this dinner with Lila.
She was stirring her pasta absentmindedly when she looked up at me. "You've been quiet for ten minutes. That's not normal for you."
"I'm just tired," I said quickly.
Lila narrowed her eyes immediately, the way she always did when she knew I was lying. "You don't get 'just tired' in that tone. You get 'I'm hiding something' tired."
I forced a small laugh. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being accurate," she corrected.
The problem with L
