Alaric made his way inside his house, his jaw clenching, anger swirling inside him, but beneath the rage was guilt.
He couldn't believe he had actually extended the contract. He hated himself for it, but then again, Nicolette hadn't made it easy for him.
Her coldness, her distance, her rejection—his inability to stand all of those had added to his decision.
He felt guilty for his action, but that wasn't what filled him with shame.
It was the pain in her voice.
The hurt in her eyes despite her anger.
His stomach twisted, filling up with more guilt. He just hoped he hadn't crossed a line yet.
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at the car. Nicolette was still seated there, and the regret intensified in his chest.
Was she crying?
Was she too angry to come inside?
His guilt swelled.
Alaric entered his living room and sank into the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. As he rubbed his temples, Bagel came over and nudged him with a cold nose.
