The silence in the living room stretched like a tight thread, ready to snap. Neither of us spoke for a long time. The whiskey sat untouched between us, the amber liquid catching the soft light, glinting like trapped fire.
James’s last words still rang in my head—He’s the one who put the mask on in the first place.
I didn’t know what that meant, not yet, but the weight of it sat heavy between us.
I should have asked more. I should have demanded answers. But exhaustion took over—the kind that seeps into your bones and numbs everything. We were two people stripped bare, not by lust this time, but by truth.
I sank slowly into the couch beside him. Neither of us moved at first. The air between us trembled with something fragile and familiar.
James turned his head, eyes red-rimmed, voice ba
