Sibel’s POV
I watched as Dylan stood up slowly. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between us. There was a tension in the air that I hadn’t fully noticed until now, an undercurrent that seemed to thrum with a realization I hadn’t been willing to face.
My gaze lingered on him longer than I intended. The way his jaw was set, the tightness in his shoulders, the look of something in his eyes...disappointment?...in his eyes before he managed to mask it. It was then that I realized how much more this moment, this conversation, meant to him than I had allowed myself to see.
“Dylan, you…” I started, but the words caught in my throat. What was I supposed to say? My hand reached out almost instinctively, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. It felt awkward, so far removed from the intensity of the moment, but I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t used to seeing him like this... So exposed, so vulnerable.