Save for the sound coming from the air conditioner, the room was silent.
Atlas held on to Aveline in his arms, comforting her even without having to say anything to her.
He wanted her to know that whatever it was, he was there for her.
"My father used to have an art gallery with paintings worth billions of dollars," she randomly said.
He sucked in his breath, but otherwise, didn't say a word.
"We lived in France, but we had properties everywhere. For holidays, we travelled round the world."
She paused, as the weight of the past she had since buried began to resurface, even as she laid in the safety of her lover's arms.
Not even Craig had ever pulled the truth out of her, despite how in love with him she thought she had been.
"Aveline, you don't have to–"
