Elena's POV
Dinner was quiet, but not in a bad way.
It was the kind of quiet that feels like the air itself is alive ,humming under the skin, heavy with something unspoken. As if the whole room was in on a secret neither of us dared to voice.
Justin's actions in the kitchen made everything awkward, the aura and vibe in the room was stiff, but I could feel it. It lingered in the way Justin's eyes met mine and didn't dart away fast enough, in the way his voice had dipped when he'd asked me to pass him the salt, in the faint pause before either of us answered a casual question.
The mansion's dining room, with its vaulted ceiling and flickering candles, felt larger than usual tonight. The chandelier's soft glow poured over the long polished table, catching the edge of his jaw in warm gold light. The air smelled faintly of roasted garlic and the merlot we'd been drinking, but beneath that… there was him. His cologne , warm cedar and something else I could never quite pin down.
