Ava’s POV
The wine glass slipped from my fingers before I even realized it was already tilting from my hands.
It hit the marble floor with a sharp, explosive crack, red wine exploding everywhere: across the tiles, up the cabinets, little droplets splattering like blood against the white grout.
My hand just hung there in the air, frozen, and trembling. I stood there, hoping that my unease isn't visible.
Then his voice floated in from the hallway, warm and rough around the edges from the long flight.
“Ava? Baby, I’m home!”
The sound of his suitcase wheels rolling slow over the hardwood which was followed by a soft thud when he stopped it by the door.
My eyes darted straight to the space between me and Julian.
We weren’t touching.
Not even close. We were four feet apart from each o
