TRISTAN
The door slammed shut behind Griselda with a force that echoed in the room. I let out a string of curses under my breath, raking a hand through my hair. The intensity of the situation pressed heavily on my chest, and all I could think about was Stella’s expression when she walked in.
She was angry. No, she was more than angry—she was hurt. And the worst part was, I didn’t know how to fix it.
I turned to face her, but she was already standing by the window, her arms folded across her chest, staring out at the endless black of the ocean. Her silence was sharper than any words she could have thrown at me.
"Stella," I started, my voice softer than I intended.
She didn’t turn around. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tristan.”
I sighed, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to shut
