Sharon stood by the door, still gripping the handle as Bruce walked into her apartment. His presence filled the small living room, the air between them taut with tension. She closed the door and turned to face him, masking her unease with a calm expression.
"Bruce," she said, keeping her voice even. "I wasn’t expecting you."
Bruce turned to her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His usual composed demeanor seemed slightly off tonight. There was an intensity in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.
"I know it’s late," he began, his voice low and steady, "but I couldn’t go home without talking to you."
Sharon raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Talking to me? About what?"
Bruce glanced around the apartment, his gaze lingering on the modest furnishings before returning to he
