KIERAN’S POV
Sera left the room without looking back.
The quiet click of the door shutting upstairs was somehow louder than every time she’d ever yelled at me.
I stood there in the kitchen for a long while, just staring at the place she’d been standing. Her scent still lingered faintly in the air, refusing to leave even when she did.
“She can barely look at me,” I muttered, leaning on the counter. “I can’t even blame her.”
I winced sharply. My ribs ached faintly from where I’d aggravated the injury playing hockey. The dull throb matched the rhythm of my pulse.
‘Why would you?’
I snorted. “Oh, so we’re talking again?”
‘Sera has asked that I stop punishing you,’ Ashar replied, his tone begrudging.
I chuckled dryly. “Since when do you do what others ask you to?”
‘Since her,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘I will do whatever it takes to make and keep her happy after being the cause of her pain for so long.’
