Isabel’s POV
Guilt gnaws at me as Roy gently helps me into the car, his hand steadying me as I sit down. He closes the door with a soft thud, his movements careful, as though I’m something fragile. As he walks around to the driver’s side, my chest tightens.
This pretense, this little act of weakness I conjured at the office, it wasn’t fair to him. Roy’s always been on the lookout for me, always ready to help or save me, even when I don’t ask.
As the car pulls away, my mind drifts. Memories surface—Roy standing by my side during moments I thought I couldn’t get through. Through the years, through the pain, through my mistakes, he’s never faltered.
How does someone care this much, for this long, without giving up? I wonder if it’s the kind of loyalty I’ve only ever seen in stories, the
