His words were a brand, searing into the frantic beat of my pulse.
He didn't rub it in. He simply straightened up, the predatory glint in his eyes softening into something unreadable, almost… weary.
He went back to the chair, not with the languid grace of before, but with the crisp efficiency of a man closing a deal. He sat, crossed one leg over the other, and smoothed the crease in his trousers. The storm had passed. The cold front had moved in.
The silence that fell between us was a different kind. It wasn't charged with unspoken desire anymore; it was heavy with the weight of his victory.
I watched him, expecting him to pick up his phone, to retreat into his world of stocks and mergers, but he didn't. He just watched me, his gaze steady, waiting. For what, I didn't know. For me to cry? To apologize? To break?
I would do none of them. I lifted my chin, the gesture costing me more than I wanted to admit.
