Unsteady

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hours passed in restless silence, the thick stillness of the darkened bedroom amplifying every stray thought that flitted through Regina's mind. The soft tick of the bedside clock marked the passage of time, each second dragging her deeper into the well of doubt that had taken root within her. She tossed and turned, unable to find a shred of comfort in sleep, her mind unraveling with every unanswered question, every flicker of suspicion. It was as if the shadows of the room pressed in on her, smothering her hope and leaving her suffocated by fear.

The sudden creak of the bedroom door shattered the silence, sharp and unexpected, slicing through the tension like a whisper in the night. Her breath caught in her throat, heart racing as the familiar figure emerged from the darkness. Instinctively, she sat upright in bed, the mix of relief and anxiety flooding her chest in an overwhelming wave. She didn't need to see him clearly to know it was him; his presence was enough.

"Graham..." Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse with the weight of her unease. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly as he stepped into the room, the faint glow of the hallway light outlining his silhouette, but she couldn't shake the knot of worry that coiled tighter in her chest.

"Why are you still up?" His voice, thick with weariness, held an edge of concern as he closed the door behind him, leaving the world outside. The room grew quieter as he moved further inside, shrugging off his coat with the mechanical grace of someone exhausted. It landed in a crumpled heap on the armchair in the corner, a discarded burden, before he began to undress. The soft rustle of fabric filled the air as each article of clothing slipped from his body, his shoes thudding gently against the wooden floor before joining the growing pile. But even in his exhaustion, Regina could see the faint tremor in his movements, the subtle stiffness in his posture that belied the calm mask he tried to maintain.

"Did you resolve the breach?" The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, her voice low but edged with the unspoken doubts still swirling within her. The weight of the question, the desire for an answer, clung to her words like a shackle.

Graham paused mid-step, his breath catching as he processed her inquiry. For a heartbeat, the carefully crafted story he had told her began to slip, and the uncertainty in his eyes flickered for a split second. He recovered quickly, forcing a casual smile that didn't reach his eyes. "The breach?" he asked, his voice feigning innocence as he raised an eyebrow, a quiet laugh escaping his lips, though it lacked humor.

Regina's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening as she watched him, studying the subtle shifts in his expression, the flickers of discomfort that betrayed his calm facade. "Yeah," he continued after a moment, stepping closer to the bed, leaning casually against the bedpost. His voice grew more confident as he spoke, but there was a tension lingering in his every word. "It had been handled by the time I got there."

Regina's gaze never wavered, her skepticism wrapping tightly around her words. "Good," she replied, though her tone was flat, almost mechanical as she forced herself to swallow the mounting doubt. She had to believe him—at least, that's what she told herself.

"Yeah," Graham murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he slid into bed beside her. The sheets shifted, rustling like the very sound of their fragile peace shattering. He lay stiff beside her, his body tense and rigid, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as though he could will the tension between them away.

Regina shifted, turning onto her side, propping her head up on her hand as she watched him. The soft flicker of moonlight from the window illuminated his face, but there was something about the way he avoided her gaze that unsettled her. The heavy weight of silence stretched between them, but it was the unspoken words that carried the most weight.