Sheila's POV
The door to the sitting room clicked shut behind us, sealing out the awful tension of the dining area. I walked on unsteady legs to the large window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. I could see my own pale, shaky reflection staring back. The fight to keep the tears in was a physical ache in my throat.
Lana was there in a second, a quiet, worried presence at my side. She didn’t say anything. She just placed a gentle hand on my arm, her touch soft and patting, like you’d soothe a spooked animal. That small kindness was what finally broke me. A hot tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek, and I angrily swiped it away.
“He’s impossible,” I whispered, my voice thick. “Dave is f*****g impossible."
“I know,” Lana murmured.
We stood in silence for a moment, the
