Charlotte
I have to get home to explain everything to George, although I'm afraid he won't listen. As soon as he sees me entering the house, he walks away.
I follow George down the hallway, my footsteps soft against the hardwood floors, but the tension between us is anything but subtle. My hands are trembling, heart pounding in my chest, and all I want is for him to stop. To turn around and listen to me. Just listen.
"George, wait," I plead, my voice cracking. "You're not being fair. This isn't my fault!"
He doesn't turn. He doesn't even flinch. His broad back remains rigid as he makes his way into his home office—the place where he can escape me. I hate that room now. The door creaks open as he steps inside, and I move faster, desperate.
"Please, George. You have to hear me out," I beg, practically jogging the last few steps to catch him before he shuts the door. "Can you just—"