ALTHEA
I pause. Just one beat.
But it’s enough.
Because everything in me suddenly screams the same thing over and over.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows.
I try not to flinch under his gaze. It’s too direct. Too steady. Like he’s searching for the truth right there on my face.
I force myself to breathe. To calm down. I curl my fingers into the folds of my coat, grounding myself in the cool fabric. But my heart still thunders in my chest.
His eyes are too sharp. Too focused. I can’t hold the weight of them anymore.
I look down. Clear my throat.
“What do you mean?” I ask softly, trying to keep my voice light. “What could I possibly have to say to you again?”
I chance a glance up at him.
He hasn’t moved. He’s still watching me, his face unreadable. But I keep going, because silence feels worse than saying the wrong thing.
“I know we still had a lot to say last time,” I murmur. “But it’s fine. I guess not everyone gets closure. And I also want to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m more sorry than yo
