Each time I tried to get close, something pulled us apart — like fate had decided this was only a façade. Maybe we were never meant to be. But still, I wanted to hold his hand when I caught him leaning against a palm tree.
The black buttoned dress clung to his skin, swaying with the night breeze. The porch light spilled over him, casting a warm glow on his tan skin. Anthony looked... gorgeous.
His stormy eyes narrowed as I stepped closer.
"Is something wrong?" I whispered, my voice barely carrying in the wind.
He didn't reach for me. I hadn't really expected him to, but still — it stung.
"You seemed to enjoy his company," he said, his tone low. "So I let you."
"Anthony?"
He looked away, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond me, toward the house.
"Let's go home. It's getting late."
I nodded. No point dragging it out — I could see his mood had shifted. I just didn't know why.
