Christian pov
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
It had been this way for days no footsteps echoing in the hallway, no scent of her perfume lingering in the living room, no accidental glances. Just silence, and the ghost of her presence moving around me like smoke I couldn't catch.
She’d been avoiding me.
And maybe that was smart. Maybe I deserved it.
She barely came down to eat. She didn’t try to talk to me. She moved like a ghost and I let her.
Because if I confronted her now, I might say something I wouldn’t take back.
Or worse—I might touch her again.
I came home late again, later than usual. I told myself it was work, but it wasn’t. I just didn’t want to face what the air between us had turned into. The look in her eyes that morning—hurt, defiance, and something else I hadn’t da
