"Then tell me, what exactly did I do wrong? Why won't you talk to me? When I was still in the United Kingdom, I kept messaging you. When I got back, I was always by your side speaking to you, but you, you wouldn't even spare me a glance."
George Flack's voice was filled with grievances. He simply didn't know what he'd done wrong. If he didn't know, then why was she treating him with such cold indifference?
Indeed, Aria Grant was cutting fruit. They had both been eating too heavily these past few days, so she wanted to make something lighter for them both.
The fruit knife sliced down, its sound particularly crisp—a sound that was indeed stress-relieving.
Although the voice beside her continued talking, Aria Grant was still completely unresponsive.