At that moment, Abigail pushed her chair back, her mind made up to leave before the conversation could spiral further. But Robert's voice, deep and sharp, cut through the air like a whip.
"Where are you going?"
There was no gentleness in his tone, only the weight of someone who had reached the end of his patience. Abigail froze for a second but didn't answer. Her fingers curled tighter around her purse, her knuckles whitening.
Then Robert gaze locked on her like a warning. "It seems to me," he began slowly, "that you've overstepped your line. You don't know your boundaries anymore… or perhaps you've chosen to forget them altogether."
Abigail's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent, the tension between them thick enough to suffocate the room.
