Nina looked away from him, her gaze drifting toward the dying embers in the hearth. She didn't speak for a long time. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked with a heavy, monotonous rhythm that seemed to amplify the absurdity of their situation.
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, letting out a long, ragged breath that sounded raw even to her own ears. Her chest felt tight, constricted by the weight of everything he'd just proposed. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, despite the chill creeping in from the winter night outside.
"I can be there for Ethan," Nina said finally, her voice dropping into a quiet, raspy register. She lowered her hands and looked back up at him, her brow furrowing with concern and confusion. The boy had worked his way into her heart faster than she'd anticipated, with his quiet smiles and the way he'd clutched her hand during their walk through the garden yesterday.
