His Enemy, My Husband
Isla muttered to herself, more to fill the silence than anything else, turning away and walking briskly toward the door, her hands smoothing down her blouse with every step forward.
Behind her, Damien was now sitting on the edge of the bed, phone still in hand. He finally answered, his voice quiet, steady, emotionless.
“…Hello?”
Moments later, with Isla now back in her room, the air tensed around her.
She sat stiffly with eyes locked on a spot across the room.
Her gaze didn’t change for what felt like minutes, her breathing still rising and falling.
Then, suddenly, she rose to her feet, her entire face squeezing up with the weight of the thoughts clashing in her head.
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