Crossroads

As I stood outside Damien's door, my heart pounded with anticipation and trepidation.

The tension between us had been palpable since we returned home from the art exhibition, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

With a deep breath, I raised my hand to knock, steeling myself for whatever response awaited me on the other side.

I rapped my knuckles against the polished wood, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway.

For a moment, there was silence, and my heart sank with the weight of uncertainty.

Was Damien even home? Had he retreated into solitude, leaving me to grapple with my thoughts alone?

Just as I began to consider turning away, the door creaked open, revealing Damien's stoic figure on the other side.

His expression was unreadable, a mask of indifference that sent a shiver down my spine. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off before I could utter a word.

"I need some time alone," he said curtly, his tone final and unyielding. Without waiting f