“I’m flying to Paris tomrrow," he continued, adjusting his cuff like he was talking about business. “Taking Amber with me. She’s been wanting to go for a while.”
Of course she did.
“So I cleared today,” he added, glancing at his watch. “I booked a place. Rooftop, private, no bullshit interruptions. We’ll celebrate properly this time.”
Properly.
Now?
After everything?
“I’ll give you your gift later,” he said, already grabbing his jacket. “Get ready. We’re leaving.”
He walked toward the door like it was already decided. Like I would follow.
I didn’t move. Not even a step.
He stopped when he realized, then turned back, his brows pulling together. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there.”
I looked at him.
This man.
The one I waited for, loved, endured for five years.
Should I tell him now?
Should I just say… it’s over?
My lips parted. But nothing came out.
After a few seconds, I lowered my gaze. “I… have something to finish. You go ahead. I’ll follow later.”
He stared at me for a moment, like he was trying to read something. Then he gave a short nod. “Fine. Don’t take too long.”
And just like that, he left.
The door closed. His car started outside.