Gabrielle’s POV
The air in the house was different now. Tense. Heavy. It felt like we were both walking on glass, afraid to make a move that might shatter whatever fragile thing was growing between us.
Matthew had been more protective than ever since he told me about the silver key, but it was more than that. There was a softness to his actions now, a quiet hesitation in the way he looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.
And it was driving me absolutely crazy.
I sat at the kitchen island, pretending to work on my laptop, but my eyes kept drifting to Matthew. He was across the room, leaning against the counter with a book in his hands. He wasn’t reading it, though. His gaze kept flickering to me, like he was trying to be subtle but failing miserably.
Every time our eyes
