But Vincent’s gaze remained fixed somewhere over her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. “No, it’s not about you. It’s about me,” he replied, his voice tight. “I want to live my life differently now… I need to be free.”
Free? Free from what? From her? From their life together? She felt a hollow ache spreading through her chest, a sinking sensation as if the ground beneath her feet was dissolving. How could he speak so casually about dismantling a life they had built together for forty years?