Twenty eight.

ISHTAR.

"Yes, why?"

Why? I couldn't wrap my head around how fast his behavior changed. One minute, he has me thinking we could be something. I had no idea what that thing was, but something.

The next minute, he's acting like this. Unapproachable, emotionlessly, mean, stone cold, and even when I look into his eyes, I wouldn't see anything that I saw yesterday. It was like staring into an abyss. "I had been studying all day," I began, sounding as lovely as possible. Even in the dark, his imposing frame stood tall, his stance unwavering.

I could see that his fists were clenched. Like he's being tormented. Was holding a conversation with me this difficult? I pushed down the bile in my throat and kept talking, "Who knew reading would be so exhausting?"

Indulge me. Talk to me. Say something, anything. Damian responded with silence. Too much of it that it hurts, and I didn't want to bring up this morning either and how he'd turned me down after all it took to prepare a better meal.

I didn't