The silence stretched between them, thick and charged. It felt like a war neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
Aurora stood with her arms crossed, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, as if resisting the pull between them. Tim, on the other hand, was still. Too still. His hands were clenched, his body taut with something he wasn't saying.
Aurora knew that look. She knew the way his jaw tightened when he was holding himself back.
She should tell him to leave.
She should step back.
Instead, she swallowed and asked, "Are you staying?"
The question felt like a mistake the second it left her lips.
Tim's dark gaze snapped to hers. Something flickered across his face—something raw, something unreadable. "Do you want me to?"
No. Yes. Maybe.
Aurora's fingers curled against her arms. "It's late."
"That's not an answer."
She exhaled sharply, stepping past him, as she moved toward the kitchen just to put some space between them.
