I tightened my grip on my glass, then quickly reached for the intercom, calling Grace to bring another one. My tone stayed calm, but inside, something felt… off. The reaction I had just shown Nigel lingered in my mind, sharp and undeniable, refusing to be ignored.
Because it didn't make sense.
Elliot had been using my glass at home for days, drinking from it like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I hadn't reacted like this. Not once. But the moment Nigel tried, my instincts snapped awake, fast and defensive, like I was guarding something that didn't belong to anyone else.
The realization made my chest tighten.
"Are you really eating with us tonight?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I lifted the glass to my lips, using the motion to steady myself.
Nigel took the new glass when it arrived, sipping from it with effortless ease, completely unaware of the storm I was trying to suppress. "Of course," he said lightly. "I'm treating you both to something good."
