I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Then he appeared. Christian still half undressed, unbottoned shirt still on.
My heart pounded when he closed the gap between us.
He didn't say a word at first. He just looked at me. His expression unreadable, like he was still trying to process what I'd just said. Or maybe he'd known it was coming. Maybe he felt it like I did—the shatter beneath the surface.
"Do you really have to go? Can't we talk about this? Alora, please."
He reached out to me and touched my arm.
Tears burned in my eyes.
The past few months I'd secretly carried this fear. A fear that this happiness we'd built would collapse.
And now it was happening. The world I'd dreamed of, the family I'd been looking forward to, it was going further beyond my reach.
And all because he lied.
I couldn't understand his reasoning. He'd done it out of love. Because he didn't want to lose me.
