“I saw Vince last night,” I say, my voice low but steady. The words hang in the air like smoke, fragile and heavy.
A tremor runs through me at the memory of Vince’s eyes...too knowing, too close...and the sharp, intimate scent that clung to him like heat. “I thought he was still… abroad.”
The morning light creeps in through the expensive curtains, golden and intense, cutting across the space between Lior and me like a blade.
Normally, it’s comforting. Today, it feels like a f*****g spotlight on everything we’re not saying.
Lior stands by the window, all cold elegance and distance, framed by the lush, perfect view of Vince’s estate.
He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even twitch. The silence stretches so thin, I feel like if I speak too loud it’ll snap and slice us both in two.
Finally
