Amy’s POV
I stare at Kael from across the dinner table, my fork frozen halfway to my lips. He hasn’t looked at me once. Not once. His eyes are glued to his damn phone like I’m invisible.
My stomach twists with irritation. This is ridiculous. I gave up my evening for this, and here he is, scrolling and smirking at God-knows-who.
I slam my fork down, making the silverware clatter against the plate. “Are you going to sit there the whole night flirting with that damn phone, or are you actually going to talk to me?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.
Kael glances up at me for a second, those icy eyes barely acknowledging me, then goes right back to scrolling. “Eat your food, Amy,” he mutters flatly.
That’s it? Eat your food?
Heat rushes to my cheeks, a mix of anger and humiliation.
