The lounge is quiet, but the silence between us is deafening.
Alex sits across from me, his body tense, fingers gripping the edge of his glass like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. His shirt is slightly wrinkled, his tie loosened, but it's his eyes that unnerve me the most.
He looks… lost.
Like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, realizing too late that there's no ground beneath him.
"Emma… What if it wasn't just Victoria?"
The words hit me like a slap.
I blink, my grip tightening around the cool surface of my drink. A slow, creeping chill spreads through my chest.
"What?" My voice is sharper than I intended, but I can't help it.