When I dropped the call, Vincent was still waiting for me to speak. But the words didn’t come. My mind was in chaos, torn between the love I had for him and the reality I had to face. I wasn’t ready to tell him, not yet. Not about the house, not about Cross, and certainly not about the possibility of selling the one thing that tied me to my past. It felt like a betrayal, like I was willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of saving him. But I had no choice.
“I need to talk to Emily,” I finally said, my voice strained. I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me, suffocating me.
Vincent’s eyes searched mine, full of silent questions, but he didn’t push. He squeezed my hand gently, understanding that I needed space to figure things out.
I stood up and walked out of the
