Josie
My chest tightened as the words left my mouth before I could stop them. "Varen… you don't want to get married to me?" The question came out breathless, shaky, like I was terrified of what he might answer.
His eyes, sharp and unyielding, snapped to mine. "Don't change the conversation, Josie." His voice was rough, clipped, carrying the kind of edge that sliced right through my nerves.
I felt my throat close up, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. My lungs burned as if the air itself had grown heavy. Beside me, Marcy gave a small, knowing sigh and touched my arm gently.
"Sort things out," she whispered, her voice calm and grounding. "I'll be right outside."
I turned to her, my head bobbing in a nervous nod. My lips moved silently in gratitude, though the knot in my stomach refused to loosen. When she slipped out, shutting the door softly behind her, I was left alone with him—alone with the storm brewing in his eyes.
