After sitting there for a moment in silence, Selene finally exhaled a slow breath, her eyes avoiding his. The tension between them lingered like a stubborn shadow, the echo of their earlier exchange still heavy in the air. Lucas had stopped massaging her shoulders, his hands now resting idly at his sides, yet his expression remained calm, unbothered by the storm quietly brewing within her.
She straightened up, smoothing the front of her robe with deliberate slowness, as though the small act could help her regain some semblance of composure. "I should go," she said quietly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness. It wasn't a statement meant to provoke a reaction; it was the tone of someone choosing to withdraw before saying something they might regret.
Selene wasn't angry, not exactly. No, what burned in her chest was something far more unsettling: the quiet sting of humiliation. Lucas's words from earlier replayed in her mind, each syllable pricking at her pride.
