The ache in my body is unbearable. I stay curled on the bed, every movement sending sparks of pain through my ankle. On the bedside table, a bowl of soup and a glass of water wait untouched. The door creaks open, and Kyle steps inside, the maid trailing obediently behind him.
I snap my eyes shut, feigning sleep. Maybe if I don't acknowledge him, he'll leave me alone.
Kyle's voice cuts through the silence. "Has he eaten anything?"
The maid hesitates, her tone soft. "Sir… Mr. Damien hasn't touched food since yesterday. He won't even drink water. He just keeps telling me to leave him alone."
I hear Kyle's sharp breath, then the scrape of the tray being lifted as the maid retreats, leaving me with the one person I least want to face.
The mattress dips. His hand brushes against my hair, a tender gesture that makes my skin crawl. "Damien," he murmurs, "open your eyes. I know you're only pretending."
