The door clicked softly behind him, and the silence that followed felt heavier than before thick and stifling, pressing against my ribs. I sat there staring at the spot where he’d stood, my mind replaying his words over and over.
You’re not healing like the others.
He noticed. Of course, he did. Darius missed nothing.
I ran a shaky hand through my hair, wincing when my fingers brushed a tender spot along my jaw. My skin still throbbed faintly where the ointment cooled it — a strange mix of relief and humiliation. He’d seen me broken and bruised, and instead of walking away, he’d stayed… to touch me, to care for me, even if his touch burned more than it soothed.
I lay back slowly, staring up at the ceiling beams that caught the pale afternoon light. I hated this the weakness, the lies,
