Past everything unchanged. Except the one thing that was.
Bea had cried. And he had done nothing. Just sat there, watching, feeling every tear like a blade. Knowing there was nothing he could say to make it better.
She needed time. He didn’t have it to give.
His fingers clenched the steering wheel. His mind fought through the haze, through to the truth: it was never going to end any other way.
He had known. Maybe not from the start. But somewhere along the way, their paths—once parallel—had started to drift. Inch by inch. Until they were moving forward…just not together.
She wanted to go. For him. But not for herself.
And in the end, that hadn’t been enough.
Gage exhaled and loosened his grip, one finger at a time. The streets blurred past him in streaks of gold and navy, but he barely registered them.
All he could see was her face. All he could hear was the way her voice had cracked when she asked if they could try.
He wanted to say yes. Because he loved her. Because he had never wanted anything the way he wanted her.
But Bea wasn’t built for a relationship that existed in the in-between.
And he wasn’t built to stay.
He turned onto a quieter road and cracked the window. The warm air sliced through the silence.
His phone buzzed in the center console. He didn’t check it. He already knew who it wouldn’t be.
Bea wouldn’t call. She wouldn’t change her mind.
No fracture, no bleeding. Just an unrelenting ache behind his sternum.
So this was heartbreak.
The image surfaced, uninvited: the chess set, boxed and packed. Its white queen hung from her neck.
Without her, the game was unplayable.
Gage dragged a hand down his face. His palm came away damp.
He sat there. In the silence. In the wreckage of almost. Knowing there was nothing left to fix.
For the first time in his life, there was no strategy. Only loss. So he let himself feel it. For one night, he let himself break. Because tomorrow, he’d get on a plane.
And he wouldn’t come back.
Three days.
It had been three days since Gage had walked out of her life. Gotten onto a plane, and left for the other side of the world.
Now Bea sat on the edge of her bed, hands idle in her lap, like she’d forgotten what came next.
The soft knock at the door broke through the fog. Georgina stood in the doorway, concern written all over her face.
For the past three days, she hadn’t pushed for details. Hadn’t demanded explanations. She just…watched. Like she knew.
Bea hadn’t told her. Hadn’t told anyone. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“Hey,” Georgina said, hesitating. “Gage’s people are here.”
