Davina's POV
Irvin exhaled heavily as he dropped into the driver's seat, slamming the door harder than needed. He wouldn't even glance my way.
Not a single word.
He just fired up the engine and merged into traffic, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
I stayed frozen in place, fingers twisted together in my lap, stealing quick looks at his profile.
His expression was stone-cold. Way too intense.
Was he pissed?
At me?
Wouldn't shock me. Irvin had this cruel talent for making me feel like I mattered one second—like I was actually someone—then icing me out the next. Like I was invisible. Like I didn't even register.
Still, I couldn't shake this need to care about him.
Couldn't stop this gnawing worry.
My gaze found the split on his lip, the purple blooming along his jawline. Everything in me wanted to reach over, touch those bruises, fix what was broken.
But would he even want that from me?
I waited, then forced myself to break the silence. Had to say something...
