Madison Rae
The silence between us felt louder than any argument.
I stood in the middle of the living room that used to be mine — my parents' photos gone, the old carpet replaced, the warm scent of jasmine candles replaced with sharp cologne and expensive stillness. Alex stood across from me, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, the other loosely holding a glass of water he hadn't even sipped. He looked at me with an bored expression on his face.
"You're not obligated to answer me right now," he said, his voice maddeningly even. His voice was chillingly calm.
I blinked. My throat felt like it had dried shut. "What?" My voice came out as a whisper.
He didn't look at me — not really. His gaze skimmed past me, toward the window where the city lights flickered in the dista
