"You’re still holding on to that grudge, aren’t you?" The tense silence was broken by Aria's voice, which was measured but harsh.
The teacup I was holding shook a little as I froze in mid-step. The huge kitchen, a vast expanse of steel and marble, was as frigid as the tension between us as we stood there. After carefully setting the cup down and attempting to regain my balance, I turned to her.
"It’s not a grudge," I responded, maintaining a composed tone. "It’s... an adjustment."
"An adjustment," Aria said again, a small, sardonic smirk flickering at the corners of her lips. She folded her arms and leaned against the counter. Are you referring to that as years of silence? You're saying that you're never looking for me?
I inhaled deeply as the remorse I believed I had buried came back
