Eratz's expression was unreadable as his words hung in the air. The gentle rhythm of the rain outside the window seemed to amplify the tension between them.
He looked at her, his face calm, disturbingly so, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle, too gentle.
"There's really nothing to explain, Lisa. Nothing to complain about. It's fine."
His tone was infuriatingly calm, as if her outburst of guilt and anguish was no more than an idle conversation.
There was no anger, no hurt, just that calm, detached voice, as though everything she'd said didn't touch him at all.
Lisa's heart pounded. It was too much. How could he act like this? How could he be so indifferent? Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, her voice shaky as she tried to make him understand.
"Eratz… please… I don't want to be a coward anymore," she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. "I can't just pretend everything's fine. I know what I did..."
