"No, Estelle. I'm not leaving."
Roman's voice came out firm, but there was strain beneath it. His chest rose and fell too fast, heat creeping into his face as he looked at her. Part of him wanted to turn around, to walk out, to pretend none of this mattered, but his body refused to follow through.
Estelle didn't move, she just kept her gaze forward, distant, as if he wasn't even there. And that stung more than anything. Roman crossed the space between them in a few quick steps and spun her chair around.
Estelle's breath hitched as she was turned to face him. For a second, her eyes widened, her chest rising unevenly, but she said nothing.
"I'm ready to work with you," Roman said, his voice lower now, more controlled. "But I should be allowed to challenge a rule if it doesn't sit right with me. That doesn't mean I won't follow it."
"You already broke the first rule." Her voice was quiet, but it landed hard. Her gaze dropped to his hands, still gripping the wheelchair.
