Cassian stood in front of me, his gaze intense, as though he was trying to figure out what to say next. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, and it took all my willpower not to look away.
“What did you and Magnus talk about?” he finally asked, his voice low, almost too calm.
“Just... memories,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “Things from our childhood and while you were busy.”
“Childhood,” he repeated, the word hanging between us. “And what about your present, Isadora? What are you thinking about now?”
I hesitated, not knowing how to respond. What was I supposed to say? That I was torn between him and the man who had been my comfort last night? That I felt lost, confused, and guilty? I couldn’t bring myself to admit any of it.
“I’m trying to make sense of every
