The oppressive argument

Daphne's cheerfulness curdled instantly. A whirlwind of questions swirled in her mind, unanswered and unsettling. Before she could even figure out what she was doing here, Julian was already at Esme's side.

"Esme!" he exclaimed, surprise and a flicker of something deeper – delight, perhaps even longing – shimmering in his eyes. "When did you come?"

Esme, too, was taken aback by the unexpected encounter. Her gaze darted between Julian and Daphne, the latter's discomfort a tangible presence in the air. Feigning composure, Esme forced a smile. "Just yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Julian echoed, a hint of hurt coloring his tone. "Why didn't you call me? I thought we were still friends." He had clearly expected her to reach out.

Esme's smile faltered. She had sensed Daphne's apprehension towards her – a hostility that had made her hesitate. She decided not to keep any touch with him.

"It was late when I got in," she offered weakly, "and I was exhausted."