He pulled me into the living room, his voice edged with anxiety as he tried to explain, "Last night, after dinner, we drank too much. I didn't want her driving home alone—I was worried something might happen on the way. So, I let her stay the night here. She slept in your room, but nothing happened between us. Please, don't misunderstand."
Oddly enough, I felt calm. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. There had been other nights when they went out, and he stayed over at her place. Back then, I confronted him, and we had a huge argument about it.
He must've remembered that fight, which probably explained why he was so eager to clarify everything this time. But now that we were breaking up, did any of it even matter?
I nodded, my expression neutral. "It's fine. I understand."
At my response, Yohann's anxious expression softened, though he still frowned as if trying to figure out why I wasn't upset. He studied me closely, clearly puzzled by my calmness.
I let him observe me without resistance.
A little while later, Zandria came out of my room, now dressed in different clothes. But instead of her own, she was wearing one of my dresses.