After freshening up and slipping into comfortable loungewear, Silas sank into the recliner by the window, his thoughts clouded by Maya's cryptic words. Who was the enemy she had referred to? The question nagged at him, a quiet storm brewing in his mind.
Meanwhile, Esme entered, holding a steaming cup of coffee. Her presence pulled him back from the whirlwind of worries. When Silas looked up and saw her, a smile tugged at his lips, not displaying his worry.
Esme returned his smile, her warmth filling the room as she made her way over. "Your coffee is ready," she said softly, putting the cup on the table beside the recliner.
But Silas wasn't interested in the coffee. His eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made the room feel smaller and quieter. There was something magnetic in the way he studied her as if the rest of the world had dissolved. Esme, sensing the shift in the air, felt a flutter of excitement as she set the cup down.
