Please don’t follow me out of guilt or obligation.Only come if you know, without hesitation, that you’re choosing me.
I love you.I always will.
—Isla
Her hand trembles as she sets the pen down.
She folds the letter carefully, smoothing the crease as if precision might make this less painful.She places it on the bed where he will find it, then sets the signed legal documents giving him the castle on top.She doesn’t look at them again.If she does, she might falter.
She stands there for a long moment, absorbing the finality of it.
This is her black moment, not because she doubts the choice, but because she knows the cost.
She moves through the castle one last time, barefoot now, the stone cool beneath her feet.She pauses in the music room, resting her hand lightly on the piano lid.For a heartbeat, she considers playing something, one final note, one last memory.
She doesn’t.
Some things are better left untouched.
Putting her boots on, she hauls her suitcase down the steps, remembering when she arrived.
At the front door, she hesitates.
The castle feels restless, the air shifting as if the walls themselves are aware of her leaving.When she opens the heavy door, a low sound rises through the stone, deep and old, almost a moan.The place seems to resist her, mourning in its own ancient way.
Her throat tightens.
“It’s not you,” she whispers, absurdly.“It’s me.”
The words feel thin even as she says them.
She steps outside into the morning, pulling her coat tight as mist curls around her ankles.She does not look back.If she does, she won’t keep walking.
As the car pulls away, the castle looms behind her, solid, unmoving, full of history and ghosts.
She presses her forehead to the window, tears finally spilling.
She is leaving the man she loves.
She is leaving the place that feels like grief given form.
She tells herself this is strength.That choosing herself is not abandonment.That love does not always mean staying.
Still, the ache is relentless.
And somewhere beneath the resolve and the sorrow, a single, terrifying thought takes root:
What if love was the one thing she wasn’t supposed to walk away from?
The plane lifts off hours later, carrying her back to New York, back to contracts and schedules and a life she understands.
But the castle follows her.
So do thoughts of Callum.
She doesn’t know yet which one will matter more.
Chapter24
