I close the door, and the sound of the doorknob echoes like a gunshot.
Asher walks in silence. Not the tranquil silence, but the dangerous silence, the one that precedes an explosion.
My heart is pounding where it shouldn't: in my throat, in my temples, in my fingertips.
"Do you want something strong to drink?" I ask, just to break the tension.
He glares at me with a murderous look.
"No. I just need something…"
"Sure. Tell me what it is," I reply, forcing politeness like someone clutching a broken shield.
Talking to Asher was always easy. We understood each other. Two sharks in the same tank. But today… today I'm on the verge of a tension that I swear makes me feel like I'm walking on a minefield. And I don't know where to step.
Asher comes closer. He pats my shoulder with a
