Stella:
As I stepped into the house, the warmth of the dim lighting washed over me, but it did nothing to calm the irritation simmering beneath my skin. I wasn’t supposed to be mad. I wasn’t supposed to care. But I did. And the worst part? I hated that I did.
Yvonne had been subtle—at least, she thought she had been. The lingering touches, the overly interested questions, the way her eyes had trailed over Tristan like he was something to be unwrapped and devoured. And Tristan, being his usual self, had just... indulged her. Responded like he didn’t know exactly what she was doing. Like he didn’t know that every word out of his mouth was feeding whatever delusion she had about her chances with him.
I clenched my jaw as I made my way up the staircase, my footsteps quiet against the polish
