Edward's Point Of View
The weight of the silence following my confession was suffocating, thick with the scent of Cynthia's expensive perfume and the stale air of a house that suddenly felt like a prison.
I sat there, staring at my own hands, watching them tremble with a rhythmic, traitorous energy I couldn't suppress. The tremor started in my fingers and radiated up through my wrists… a physical manifestation of the panic clawing its way through my chest.
"Don't say that, Edward," Cynthia said, her voice sharp, slicing through my thoughts like a jagged shard of glass.
She moved closer, her silk robe whispering against her skin.. a sound that once lulled me to sleep but now scraped against my nerves like dry leaves skittering across pavement. The heat of her presence enveloped me, and the familiar scent of jasmine body lotion mingled with her perfume in a cloying combination that churned my stomach.
I wanted to pull away, but I remained frozen in place.
