Don't read for now
g question that was practically audible.
'A blade of grass? Of all the things in this world—flowers, money, a slightly-used toaster—you handed this poor girl a piece of lawn? Was this your idea of a subtle humiliation? Because if so, it backfired spectacularly. She's not humiliated, she's devoted!'
Cassian met her gaze, his expression a perfect mask of indifference. He offered no explanation, no defense, simply allowing her to run wild with her own increasingly ridiculous theories. It was, in its own way, a form of entertainment.
But Veronica, mistaking the silence for deep, emotional recollection, barreled on, lost in a haze of her own romantic delusion.
