"Jayden, you don't have to do that," Sarah began, shaking her head. "I really don't feel like—"
"I am not asking for your permission, Sarah," he interrupted softly, though the edge in his voice was unmistakable. "Consider it a requirement. You cannot refuse this. Give me tonight to make it right. Let's have a dinner, I'll make it up for you."
Sarah stared at him, catching the underlying message loud and clear. It was framed as an invitation, but with Jayden, invitations were simply polished demands. She had no choice, no voice, and no room to negotiate. Exhaling a faint, defeated sigh, she lowered her gaze back to her plate and gave a single, barely perceptible nod.
"Fine," she murmured.
