~Alistair's POV~
He lunged across the table, his hand clamping down on my phone before I could even see the screen.
I blinked, startled by his sudden aggression. "Alex? Who is it?"
He didn't hand it over. His eyes flicked to the screen for a moment, jaw tightening, before he swiped the red icon to end the call. With a sharp toss, he sent the phone landing on the sofa, just out of my reach.
"It's nothing," he said, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. "It was my mother again. I hung up."
He stared at me, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, as if waiting for me to protest. But I didn't move. My eyes stayed on the phone. He hadn't asked if I wanted to speak to her, he'd made the choice for me, a man desperate to silence a ghost that refused to stay buried.
I sat there, watching his fingers tighten around the edge of the coffee table. The pizza on my plate lost all appeal, the cheese stiff and uninviting, just like the cold dread settling in my stomach.
