Sandy's POV
My bare feet traced the familiar path across the lounge floor, each step echoing the restlessness consuming my thoughts. The phone remained stubbornly silent on the coffee table, as if taunting my growing unease.
Hours had passed since Charles walked out that door, and still no word from him. The waiting gnawed at me, each minute stretching into an eternity of uncertainty.
The quiet that enveloped the penthouse felt oppressive, like invisible hands tightening around my throat with every breath I took.
I despised this feeling of powerlessness, this nauseating vulnerability that left me scrambling for solid ground.
Yet buried beneath my spiraling anxiety, something whispered that my fears were unfounded.
Taylor seized that fleeting moment of calm to interject. "You need to stop questioning his intentions. He's genuinely trying to repair what's been broken between you."
I let out a sharp breath.
Trying.
