The only sound in the dark study was the rain tapping against the glass window. Andrew Sinclair was seated at the large mahogany desk, holding his phone yet his thoughts were far away. His gaze was locked on the screen, where a picture of Amelia—captured by a reporter—looked at him. She appeared surprised, her face protective as she attempted to hide her expanding belly from sight.
A muscle twitched in Andrew's jaw as he flipped the phone onto the desk. The headlines had become uncontrollable in recent days, involving his name in rumours and controversy. However, it wasn’t the commotion from the media that disturbed him—it was her lack of words. Amelia was headstrong, evasive, and completely resolved to keep him at the edges of her existence.
She lacks trust in me.