The room felt colder than it should have.
Isabel stepped inside with slow steps. The air smelled like cologne and linen, sharp and clean, like it hadn’t been touched by anyone else but him. Her hand hovered near her waist, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
Across the room, Isaac was pulling a clean shirt over his head, the muscles in his back moving under the fabric as he finished buttoning the collar. His expression was unreadable, but he glanced at her once without saying anything, his eyes dragging over her face before dropping back to the buttons.
She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice even.
“I appreciate the concern, but… I don’t think this is necessary,” she said, eyes fixed on him the entire time even though he had his back to her.
He didn’t respond and
