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Evelyn.

She’s the one who kept me grounded when everything else was falling apart. Every scandal. Every mess. Every damn heartbreak I thought I’d never crawl out of.

She’s the one who would know what to say. The one who’d talk me down, remind me that it was temporary.

But she’s not talking to me.

And I get it. After everything that went down, all the wreckage I dragged into her life…

But goddamn it if I don’t miss her.

I lean back, head hitting the headrest as I drag my hands down my face. I exhale, hard, like I’ve been holding my breath since I walked out that door.

I want to be angry. Iamangry.

But underneath the rage, there’s something worse. Something quieter.

Shame.

Because maybe she was right to be scared. Maybe I would’ve reacted the same way no matter when she told me. I’m a selfish asshole, too wrapped up in my pride to show the grace I should’ve had.

I was just inside her. Not even twenty minutes ago. Telling her she was mine. Kissing her, knowing I couldn’t breathe without her.

And now I’m here.

Outside.

Alone.

Same as every damn man she’s ever had to survive.

I slam my palm against the steering wheel, hard enough to rattle the car, but it doesn’t help. Doesn’t even come close.

She should’ve told me.

But I should’ve stayed.

And now?

Now I’m fucking lost.

And for the first time in years, I don’t know who the hell I am anymore.

Am I the man who walks away?

Or the one who finally steps up?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sara

I don’t cryat first.

Not when the door slams so hard that the walls seem to flinch in response, rattling under the force of his departure.

Not when Meatball presses his cold nose against my hip, whining softly in confusion, as if he can’t comprehend why the man who smelled like safety just disappeared without a word.

Not even when I call Nick, over and over again, and each time it goes straight to voicemail. The same empty tone, again and again.