His Pov:I watch her storm off the dance floor, her movements sharp and deliberate, as if she's desperate to escape—from me, my touch, my very existence. My jaw tightens, and I clench my fists, the thin thread of my patience stretched to its limit.Her heels click against the polished floor, each step echoing like a taunt, daring me to follow. And I do. My stride is slower, more controlled, though every fibre of my being screams for me to catch up, to grab her wrist and demand an explanation. But I don’t. Not yet.Instead, I watch the tension in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched when she leaves the dance floor and rushes to the upstairs. She’s running from me, but she should know by now—there’s nowhere she can go where I won’t find her.I don’t follow her. Instead, I reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, letting the cool stem of the glass ground me as I retreat to the shadowed corner of the hall. Around me, the room hums with life—laughter spilling over muted c
Last Updated : 2024-12-21
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