The man who once held the power of life and death over me now looked like a child who had done something wrong. His fingers subconsciously rubbed the hem of his coat—a nervous habit I had never seen him display before.
"I wanted to see you. To see if you were doing well," he said in a voice so low it was almost drowned out by the wind.
I replied softly, "I'm doing very well. Better than I ever have since I left you."
The light in his eyes dimmed little by little.
"That's good," he murmured, looking down and smiling in a way that was barely audible. "That's good."
The snow fell thicker. I didn't want the neighbors to see us, so I said coldly, "Take your things and leave. Don't come back ever again."
He didn't move.
"Layla, was I really that terrible to you?"
The question came out of
