Ara found herself attentively observing as John meticulously finalized his attire, a masquerade mask held in his hand. He pivoted to face her, his countenance no longer reflecting the specter of haunted memories as he bestowed upon her a penetrating gaze. He was as strikingly handsome as she remembered, and she took her time to visually savor every detail of his appearance.
She had come to the realization the moment their heated disagreement had ignited downstairs that she wasn't genuinely angry. She had been grappling with an overwhelming tide of emotions due to the recent events and had inadvertently used their spat as an emotional outlet, as misguided as that might have been.
However, witnessing the tangible hurt etched on John's face had poignantly underscored the magnitude of her er
