Eve
I raised my brows, lips pressed tight. “I’m waiting,” I said finally. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”
He let go of my wrist slowly, carefully, like he was forcing himself to give me the space I’d demanded this morning. His hands dropped to his sides, shoulders tense.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted, voice low and rough, almost embarrassed. “I’ve never… apologized. Not sincerely. Not to anyone.”
My anger faltered. The hardness in my chest softened—just a fraction. I hadn’t expected that. Not from him. Not the man who always seemed so sure, so in control.
“But,” he continued, meeting my gaze fully, golden eyes steady, “if I did… it would be for leaving you on seen. For walking past you like you didn’t matter. For making you feel like you had to fake an accident just to get me to lo
