"Why are you telling lies, Elena?" Paul's voice cut through the tension in the room as he approached me, his steps deliberate and cautious. His proximity made my heart race, and I instinctively took a small step back until the edge of the bed's cupboard stopped me.
I stammered, my voice trembling, "I-I am not." The words felt like a feeble defense, and I couldn't meet his unwavering gaze.
Paul's grip on my wrist tightened, sending a jolt of fear through me. His voice remained surprisingly calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my own emotions. "Tell me, Elena," he urged, his eyes searching mine.
The room seemed to close in around us, the walls closing in as if to bear witness to the unraveling of our tangled secrets. I felt cornered and exposed, and I couldn't escape the truth any longer.
