Chapter 51 Aria

• Trying to find the best way to start the conversation, my fingers tremble slightly as I hold the remote, and the sound of the click that turns off the television seems to echo throughout the room. The silence that follows is dense, pressing against my ears like an invisible weight.
• Alexander rises from the sofa with slow, almost deliberate movements, as if measuring the distance between us. His shoulders are rigid, tense, as though carrying the weight of five years of memories and regrets. His hands, hanging loosely at his sides, tremble faintly, and I notice the effort he puts into maintaining his composed posture.
• I cross my arms again, an instinctive reflex of protection. My palms are damp with sweat, and I try to discreetly wipe them against my arms. My eyes trace every detail of Alexander's stance, every nuance of his body language. There’s a tension and expectation in his movements, in his eyes that now hold mine with an intensity that sets my heart racing. What is he thinking? What does he want to say?