"Whatever she said, I really don't want you to think about it. It's nothing, I promise," Tryson said, his voice laced with urgency as his gaze locked onto hers, searching—no, pleading—for the kind of belief that would assure him she truly trusted him.
His intense stare felt like a desperate attempt to anchor himself in her certainty, to convince them both that Riley's words held no weight.
But Angel knew Riley too well.
She had spent enough time with her to recognize the calculated edge in her words, the way she twisted truths to suit her purpose.
Besides, she had insisted that Tryson stay by her side so they could face whatever Riley had to say—together.
There would be no running from this.
Slowly, Angel lifted her hand, her fingers trembling slightly, before gently covering Tryson's eyes. A silent moment passed between them, her touch a delicate yet firm reassurance.