Lucas stood motionless, the phone resting lightly in his palm as though it might shatter under too much pressure.
The screen glowed faintly in the dim room, casting a soft reflection across his otherwise unreadable expression. Shadows played across the sharp angles of his face, softening features that were usually set in careful control.
He exhaled… slow and measured, then gave a small shake of his head, almost as if trying to dislodge something invisible that had taken root there.
"This has to stop," he murmured under his breath, the words barely audible in the stillness.
It wasn't like him. None of this was. He prided himself on discipline, on the ability to compartmentalize every aspect of his life into neat, manageable sections.
Yet here he was, holding onto a call he had no reason to continue, watching a woman sleep on the other side of a screen as if her presence somehow anchored him to something he couldn't name.
