Jacqueline lowered her gaze to his chest and let her hand fall back to her side.
"It was just the heat of the moment," he said stiffly. "Don't read anything into it."
He looked furious jaw tight, shoulders rigid. His voice was cold enough to cut.
"Okay," she replied quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.
Okay?
That was it?
He had expected tears. Accusations. A scene. Anything but this soft acceptance.
"We can't be anything, Jacqueline," he continued, his voice rough like gravel dragged over stone. "I want that clear right now."
She swallowed, forcing the swarm of emotions back down her throat. "I understand," she murmured.
And that only confused him more.
Wasn't she supposed to ask why? Wasn't she meant to be angry? To demand answers? Her calm submission scraped against his nerves until irritation flared hotter in his chest.
"Fine. Then you can leave," he growled.
She flinched at his tone, but she still didn't lift her eyes to meet his.
Why the hell wouldn't she look at him?
