She pursed her lips tightly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
What could he say that was appropriate? I’m sorry? That’s unfortunate? Fuck you? “No, it’s okay,” he said softly. The only light in the room was the desk lamp, mellow gold that turned her curls copper.
“And you can’t say the same to me. After how long?”
“The heart can’t be measured in time,” Daniel said, then realized he sounded inane and hackneyed.
“Fuck you,” she said, for him, to him, so perfectly calm and British, and the sound of the door cracking shut behind her was a blessed relief.
.:.
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