Grace’s POV
A knock at the connecting bedroom door startled me.
“Grace?” Hunter’s voice, muffled through the wood. He must have used his key to the connecting door. “We need to talk.”
“Go away,” I called, hating the tremor in my voice.
“Please. Just five minutes.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
Silence, then: “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
I took a deep breath. I had to face him at some point. When I opened the door, Hunter was standing in the middle of the room, looking as wrecked as I felt.
“Five minutes,” I said, keeping my distance. “Then you leave.”
He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’d always found endearing. Now it just made my chest ache.
“I’m sorry,” he began.
“Don’t.” I cut him off. “Sorry doesn’t fix this.”
“I know.” He took a step toward me, stopping when I bac
