Amira POV
The house was too quiet when he came home.
I had been staring at the television for almost an hour, not really watching anything. The sound was off anyway I couldn’t stand more voices tonight. My phone was face down on the coffee table, notifications piling up like I owed the world an explanation.
I didn’t. Not anymore.
When the elevator doors opened, I didn’t turn. The familiar sound of his footsteps echoed across the marble floor steady, unhurried, cold. The air shifted.
“Dinner’s in the dining hall,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant.
He didn’t answer right away. I heard him set his briefcase down, the faint rustle of his jacket as he pulled it off. “You waited for me?”
“I didn’t feel like eating alone.”
That was the truth or part of it.
He came around to the dini
