ARIA’s POV
Trapped, both physically and emotionally, I found myself at the mercy of his scrutinizing gaze, his eyes a well of pity and sadness that I wanted no part of.
My hands, still chained to the headboard, bore the weight of my helplessness, while my broken ankle, inflamed and swollen, served as a constant reminder of my plight.
His presence, while perhaps well-intentioned, was an unwelcome intrusion to the private hell I was in. I looked away from my bruised ankle into Carter’s eyes. He looked at me for a while but Carter, persistent as ever, reached out a comforting hand, only to find his gesture met with resistance as I instinctively drew my ankle away, unwilling to allow his touch to breach the invisible barrier I had put up between us.
“Don’t”. I warned.
“Let me put some oi
