A small, knowing smile crept onto Esme's lips, and she leaned back in her chair, an air of confidence radiating from her. She tilted her head slightly, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder, framing her face. "Mr. Noah, you've misunderstood," she said, her voice steady, each word deliberate. "Those are my husbands." Her gaze locked onto his, piercing and unwavering. "No one can compare to them. And you can never be like them."
Noah opened his mouth to protest, but his words caught in his throat as he processed her declaration. Frustration flickered across his features, mixing with confusion as he tried to respond, but he found himself momentarily speechless, the weight of her conviction settling heavily in the air between them.
