Lana's POV I arrived at the edge of the woods before the café. The building sat across a narrow clearing, warm light spilling from its windows onto the frozen ground. I could see shadows moving inside, customers, waitstaff, ordinary people living ordinary lives.I didn't go in.Instead, I stopped at the treeline. Found a fallen log half-buried in dead leaves. Brushed off a small section and sat down.My heart was racing so fast I could feel it in my throat, in my temples, in my fingertips. I should go inside. Just walk in, get it over with. Tell him whatever lies I'd rehearsed on the walk here. Make him hate me. Make him leave.But my legs wouldn't move.I sat there, frozen, staring at the café like it was a funeral parlor and I was here to bury the only good thing left in my life.My fingers clenched in my lap. Tight. Tighter. They turned white, then blue-purple at the knuckles. I didn't feel the cold. I didn't feel anything except the crushing weight in my chest.I forced the pain
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