Unspoken Goodnights
The night air had a weight to it, soft, thick, humming with the kind of tension that only lingers when the ground has just quaked but the aftershocks have yet to finish. The Langfords’ luxury cars gleamed faintly under the streetlamps lined along the quiet neighborhood. Inside the house, voices had long since gone silent after Tessa stormed out, leaving Ares at the table with a plate of unfinished food and Ayisha with her restless thoughts.
It was Damien who broke the quiet. He stood awkwardly in the living room doorway, his handsome face caught between guilt and charm, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers. He had crashed into the evening like an intruder, even though he swore he hadn’t intended to. Now he was the unwanted guest, and his only saving grace
