The bar was nearly empty when Selene finally pushed herself out of the booth. Her heels clicked against the worn floorboards, but her steps carried no confidence, only the weight of realization.
Victor stayed behind, watching her leave, his face unreadable. She didn’t look back—not once. She couldn’t afford to.
When the night air hit her skin, Selene finally let herself breathe. She walked quickly down the quiet street, her pulse still loud in her ears. Her hand itched from where Victor had gripped it, the phantom of his touch clinging like a brand.
She hated herself for the tremor of relief coursing through her. For the first time in years, she didn’t feel alone in her hate. But that was dangerous. She knew it.
“Fool,” she whispered under her breath, shaking her head. She couldn’t tru
