The next morning, Anya joined Damien for breakfast, her demeanor carefully composed. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the events of the previous night. Damien, however, seemed oblivious to her discomfort, his expression as impassive as ever.
"Good morning," he greeted her, his voice barely a whisper.
Anya forced a smile. "Good morning."
They ate in silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware. Anya felt a strange mix of emotions: anger, shame, and a deep sense of despair. She had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.
As they finished their meal, Damien broke the silence. "You shouldn't be angry sleeping beside your husband , doesn't feel nice ," he said, his voice coldly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Anya looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and defiance. "You seem pretty proud of yourself Mr Damien but I hate men that's snores.Anya didn't want to think about how good he looks while he was asleep.
Damien's expression hardened. "And you? What's your reason for being clingy?
"Don't try to justify your actions," she said, her voice rising. "You know exactly what you did."
With that, she stood up and walked away, leaving Damien alone with his thoughts