Naira stormed out of the guest room, the anger still roiling through her like a storm that refused to settle. Her fists were clenched, her chest heaving with frustration. Each step she took down the corridor echoed in the quiet house, a mirror of the chaos inside her mind.
She stopped near the long corridor mirror, pressing her hands against the cool wall, and muttered to herself, βIβll make him leaveβ¦ Iβll make him regretβ¦ he canβt just force meβ¦β Her brows furrowed, and for a moment, she imagined elaborate schemesβavoiding him, mocking him, acting distantβbut then a sudden pang of doubt hit her.
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