Sara dragged herself into her apartment, her limbs heavy and head foggy. She tossed her bag onto the couch and collapsed beside it, sighing as her body sunk into the cushions. Her eyes fluttered half-closed, still hazy with exhaustion despite all the rest she'd gotten. But rest didn't always equal peace—and her thoughts refused to let her go.
Her mind wandered—of course it did—to Augustine."What is it with him?" she muttered, rubbing her temple with slow, circular strokes. His cold stare, the tension in his posture, the way her body either wanted to punch him or... fall into him. She grimaced."Why the hell did I react like that?"The ache in her head pulsed harder.
"He has a beautiful wife. A precious little daughter. And still, he walks around like life owes him an apology." She frowned
