The door had barely stopped vibrating on its hinges when the quiet settled in.
It didn’t feel like silence.
It felt like something had been ripped open and left there—raw, exposed, humming faintly beneath everything.
Matthew stayed where he was for a moment, his palm still pressed against the table, fingers spread like he needed the resistance. The sting from the impact lingered, dull and grounding.
Across the room, the space Isabella had occupied felt… disturbed. Like the air hadn’t decided what to do with itself yet.
He dragged in a breath and held it. He let it out slowly.
Then he moved. The chair scraped faintly as he pulled it back, but he didn’t sit. His hand reached for his phone instead, almost instinctively, as his body had already decided what came next before his mind caug
