(Nafas)
He walks into the house with firm, steady steps.
He hasn’t said a single word throughout the entire drive from the hotel to here.
He hasn’t even looked at me.
I quietly close the front door behind us.
Rasha walks into the kitchen.
I follow him but stop beside the doorway.
I lower my head and fidget with my fingers.
He pours himself a glass of water. His phone keeps ringing over and over, but he ignores it.
I take a few steps forward and lean against the cabinets.
I wipe my sweaty palms against my clothes.
I don’t have the courage to look at him.
My voice trembles.
— I didn’t lie to you!
I hear his mocking scoff.
He comes closer.
The bitter scent of his cologne dances beneath my nose.
I lift my head slightly.
He’s standing right in front of me...
So close.
My bre
