The marble beneath Lydia's heels felt too hard, too cold, and yet her skin burned from the inside out, as if some invisible fire had taken residence beneath her ribs.
She stood frozen in the middle of the massive living room, staring at the closed, heavy door of Adrian's study. The echo of that thick mahogany door slamming shut still vibrated in her teeth, a sound that replayed itself over and over in her mind like a cruel loop she couldn't switch off.
Somewhere behind that door was the man she'd spent three years molding into a fiancé, a man who had looked at her tonight with something colder than she'd ever seen in his eyes.
She had catalogued every one of his expressions over the years… boredom, affection, impatience, even contempt - but never this particular, glacial distance. It frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
