Tristan Sterling let out a faint hum, his expression indifferent, no longer looking at him.
He turned his head, his gaze landing on a platter of brightly colored fruit on the coffee table.
The fruit was plump, with neatly cut edges, obviously prepared with care by someone.
He casually picked up the silver fork beside him, and without hesitation, speared a piece of cantaloupe and popped it into his mouth.
Vivian Sinclair witnessed this and her pupils slightly contracted, her whole body freezing.
That fork was the one she had used.
And now, Tristan Sterling had just naturally picked it up and used it...
She lowered her head, pressing her lips together, her nails unconsciously digging into her palm.
Reminding him would seem petty.
Pretending not to notice felt extremely awkward.
Ultimately, she chose to remain silent.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly, her gaze falling on the folds of her skirt on her knees.
