He stood there. His hand fell from the door handle. He watched her back. The space between them grew.
He walked after her. Caught her wrist. She stopped.
"Why?" he asked.
She turned to look at him. Her face was still blank. But her eyes—her eyes were tired. Deep circles underneath. Red at the edges. She had been crying, he realized. Not now. Earlier. While he was driving. While he was not looking.
"I cannot share the same space with you anymore, Mr. Blackwood." Her voice was quiet. "Not after everything."
The words hit him like a physical blow. His chest constricted. His hand fell from her wrist.
She turned. Walked away.
He stood there, motionless, watching her go. His hands hung at his sides. His heart pounded. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to pull her back. He wanted to te
