Confession

The kitchen was quiet except for the rhythmic chopping of vegetables on the wooden cutting board and the occasional clink of utensils and the sizzling of oil in the pan.

Tyrell and Leila moved around each other in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. From the living room, the laughter of the girls occasionally drifted in, a cheerful counterpoint to the subdued atmosphere in the kitchen.

Leila however, focused intently on her task, her hands moving with mechanical precision as she chopped carrots into neat, uniform slices, thoroughly grateful for Tyrell's silence.

But even without words, his presence felt heavy, charged with an unspoken energy that made her pulse quicken.

She had avoided him all week, in every way possible, citing work and other flimsy excuses, throwing herself into work to escape the growing turmoil in her heart and now that they were alone, she dreaded the confrontation that felt inevitable.