Rosé,
The rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the balcony railing filled the air with a soothing melody. The sky was a muted gray, the streets below glistening as the downpour washed away the dust and grime of the city. I leaned back in my chair, letting the scent of rain and damp earth calm my restless thoughts. Everything looked dreamy, like a painting brought to life, but even the peaceful scene couldn't silence the guilt gnawing at my chest.
I had slapped Draven.
The memory struck like a slap of its own. His face had been a mixture of devastation and disbelief, his usual confidence crumbling in an instant. And though I had been seething with anger at the time, now, in the quiet of this rainy afternoon, I couldn't shake the unease settling in my stomach.
I had been furious—furious
