To Hate and To Hold
Elena's fingers curled around the door frame.
"And then you walked into that cafe," Julian said. "You looked at me with those eyes and I could see you hating me. Really hating me, not because of what I'd done to you specifically but because of what I represented. And I thought, at least that's honest. At least that's real."
She turned slowly. Julian stood in the middle of his study, blueprints scattered around him like casualties. His face was open in a way she'd never seen, every defense stripped away.