Third POVRonan hadn’t gone home after leaving the firm.Andrea had texted him twice that afternoon, sharp, accusatory messages about how he’d barely looked at her in days, how he kept staring at his phone like it held answers she couldn’t give.When he finally walked through the door of their apartment, she was waiting in the living room, arms folded, eyes red from crying or rage or both.“You still love her,” she said before he could even drop his keys. “Don’t lie to me, Ronan. I see it every time you come home smelling like her perfume or not coming home at all.”He didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. The words stuck in his throat like broken glass.Andrea laughed, a short, bitter sound. “You’re pathetic. You threw away a woman who would have died for you, and now you’re chasing the ghost of what you lost. Get out. Sleep somewhere else tonight.”He left without a word. Packed a small bag, checked into the first hotel he passed on the way downtown. The room was generic, beige walls, king bed,
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-02-16 Mehr lesen