The lights in the kitchen were low when Lina came downstairs for water.
Ethan was already there.
Sleeves rolled up. Tie gone. Less composed than usual.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Too quiet."
He poured another glass and slid it toward her. "You'll get used to it."
"I don't want to."
That earned her a glance.
"Most people would," he said.
"I'm not most people."
Silence settled between them—not awkward, just heavy.
"Why did you really choose me?" Lina asked suddenly.
He didn't answer right away.
"Because you don't look at me like something to want," he said at last. "Or something to fear."
"And now?"
His gaze held hers. "Now, I'm not sure."
Lina's chest tightened.
That night, she slept worse than ever.