I walked into the mansion carrying a small bag, already preparing myself for whatever tension awaited me.
After leaving without telling Ethan where I was going, I expected questions, perhaps another argument. But the house was strangely quiet when I stepped inside.
I closed the door and looked around.
“Hello? Anyone home?”
A few seconds later, I heard footsteps coming from upstairs.
Ethan appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed in a clean shirt and dark trousers. When he saw me, his face softened.
“There you are.”
I blinked in surprise.
“Good morning,” I replied.
He came down the stairs, approached me, and kissed my forehead.
“How was your morning?”
I stared at him, wondering if I had missed something.
“My morning was fine.”
“Where did you go?”
There it was. The questio
