I shake my head. "I don't even know where that would be." I laugh, but it's hollow. "I just realized, I don't actually have anywhere I need to be. For the first time in years, no one is expecting me anywhere."
Arthur studies me for a moment. "What do you want right now?"
The question is so simple, yet it leaves me speechless. What do I want? Not what should I do, or what's expected, or what makes sense. What doIwant?
"Coffee," I finally answer, surprising myself with the honesty. "And not to be alone."
His expression softens almost imperceptibly. "I can help with both of those."
Something passes between us in that moment—not romantic exactly, but intimate in a way that makes my breath catch. He sees me. Not as an extension of someone else, not as a project or a problem, but as a person with wants and needs of my own.
The moment is broken by the sound of tires on gravel outside. Arthur moves to the window, looking down at the parking area below.
"Someone's here," he says, his voice neutral.
Something in his tone makes me cross to the window. A sleek black car has pulled up next to my battered sedan. Even fromabove, I recognize it immediately—Richard's Audi, clean despite the snow and slush.
My body reacts before my mind fully processes what I'm seeing: my heart races, my palms sweat, and my breath becomes shallow. Arthur notices the change instantly, his eyes moving from the car to my face.
"You know who that is," he says. It's not a question.
I nod, unable to speak as I watch the driver's door open. Richard steps out, immaculately dressed in a camel overcoat, his posture confident as he surveys the garage.
He's holding something—flowers, I realize with a sickening twist in my stomach. Of course he would bring flowers. The perfect prop for the concerned fiancé searching for his runaway bride.
"It's him," I whisper, taking an involuntary step back from the window. "Richard."
Arthur's expression hardens, but his voice remains calm. "You don't have to see him if you don't want to."
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the apartment. Part of me wants to hide, to pretend I'm not here. But I know Richard, he won't leave until he gets what he wants. And what he wants is me, back under his control.
"He'll keep looking," I say, forcing strength into my voice. "He won't stop."
Arthur watches me. "What do you want to do?"
"I need to face him," I decide, the words feeling right as they leave my mouth. "I can't keep running."
Arthur nods once, respect evident in his eyes. "I'll be right there with you."
Chapter 4 – Arthur
I watch the man emerge from his luxury sedan with the practiced confidence of someone who's never had doors closed in his face. His camel overcoat looks expensive, perfectly tailored to his frame. His hair is precisely styled, not a strand out of place despite the wind. The bouquet in his hand completes the picture of the concerned fiancé searching for his missing bride.
Everything about him is calculated for effect. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"You don't have to talk to him," I remind Lori as we descend the stairs to the garage. She's still wearing my clothes, her hair loose around her shoulders. The contrast between her natural beauty and his manufactured perfection is striking.
"I know," she says, her voice steadier than I expected. "But I need to."
I position myself slightly behind her as we reach the garage floor, close enough to step in if needed, far enough to give her space to stand her ground. The door from outside opens, and Richard steps in, bringing a gust of cold air and the cloying scent of roses.
His eyes find Lori immediately, his expression shifting from determination to artificial concern.
"Lori," he says, relief coloring his voice. "Thank God."
He moves toward her with purpose, but I notice how she tenses, how her breathing becomes shallow. I take half a step closer, not touching her but making my presence known.
Richard notices me then, his gaze calculating as it sweeps over my work clothes, the garage, and back to Lori in my oversizedsweatshirt. His smile doesn't falter, but something cold flashes in his eyes.
