Ray stayed beside me while I sipped the tea, the warmth settling into my chest in slow, steady waves. The lights in the lounge were dim, casting soft shadows across the bookshelves and highlighting the lines of Ray’s face. He wasn’t watching me exactly—just glancing at me every now and then, like he was making sure I was still okay, still here, still breathing.
I didn’t know how long we sat like that.
Long enough for the tea to cool. Long enough for my heartbeat to settle into something calmer. Long enough for the silence to feel comfortable.
Eventually, I sank back into the couch cushions, letting out a slow exhale. Ray seemed to interpret that as a sign of something shifting, because he angled himself slightly toward me, one arm resting along the back of the couch, close to my shoulde
