"Oh, is that so?" she called after him, her tone light, almost teasing. "Then the gift she sent... should I just throw it away?"
At those words, Aron stopped mid-stride. His back straightened, and for a moment, the hallway was filled with silence. He didn't turn around immediately, but Esme could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he froze at her words.
She knew she had struck a chord.
Aron froze in his tracks, the irritation still lingering as he kept his back turned to Esme for a moment longer. He sighed deeply, clearly wrestling with his emotions, before stepping back and pivoting to face her. His eyes, usually sharp and guarded, now held a tinge of sadness. He raised his palm, holding it out in front of her—a silent request.
"Hmm," he mumbled, almost too quietly.
Esme, pretending not to notice the weight of his gesture, glanced at him with an exaggerated expression of confusion.
