The pain still throbbed along the veins of Damian’s fingers. But that wasn’t his biggest problem this time. He was far more occupied trying to contain the firestorm inside him. His body trembled under the weight of a void that kept tightening around his chest.
“This time, she’s really going to leave,” Damian muttered.
And he knew it.
He hadn’t seen the door open. He hadn’t heard Nayla’s footsteps grow distant.
But he knew.
Not from instinct, but from having learned to read her silence. This morning, her body was still within reach, but her soul had long since said goodbye. The stillness that hung between them after that icy conversation was no longer just distance. It was a resignation from a woman who no longer felt alive.
This time, Damian couldn’t tether her with the same methods.
