The silence that follows is heavy, but it’s not dramatic. It’s the kind of silence that happens when a decision has already been made and everyone in the room knows it.
Gabriella exhales slowly and taps something on her tablet. "Submit your resignation to HR. Per your contract you signed, you’ll have severance pay, assuming you sign the NDA."
I nod. Considering it’s an NDA for the state of Arizona, it doesn’t matter. It’s time for me to go back home, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Carey leans back, satisfied.
I stand, pick up my bag, and walk out without another word because if I stay in that room longer, I might start doubting myself, and doubt is how I’ve been controlled my whole life.
The hallway feels brighter than it did when I walked in. Not because the building changed, but because I did.
Molly is waiting outside my office, arms crossed, expression hopeful, like she already knows.
The moment she sees my face, she grins. "How did it go?"
I exhale. It comes out shaky and relieved all at once. "I quit. I’m going back to Seattle to start over."
She follows me into my office and closes the door behind us. "I’m proud of you," she says simply.
I laugh, but it sounds a little broken. "I have no idea what I’m doing."
"That’s a lie," she says, grabbing a box from the corner like she came prepared. "You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re choosing yourself."
Molly chatters as I pack, talking about listing my condo, shipping my belongings, and how the condo sale alone will give me leeway to breathe while I build something new.
"And if you ever need legal advice, I’m here to help. Just a call away."
I nod, listening, but my mind keeps drifting to Seattle.
To Luka and the fact that living close to him will hurt. Knowing that we’re in the same city but that he won’t want to see me. Luckily, the city is big, and it’s not likely that we’ll run into each other.
When I step outside into the desert heat with a cardboard box in my arms, the sun is too bright, and the air is too warm, and for the first time in years, it feels like I’m breathing without a deadline strapped to my back.
Five days later, I boarded a plane with my life already in transit—boxes shipped, condo paperwork started, my old world closing behind me in quiet, practical steps.
As the plane lifts off, I stare out the window and let my eyes burn.
Seattle is waiting.
So is the life I have no idea how to build.
And somewhere in that city is Luka Popovich, close enough to touch if he would let me, and far enough away to break me if I keep reaching.
I’m not chasing him anymore.
I’m choosing something else.
Chapter Thirty-Two
LUKA
My apartment is too quiet. I’m awake, but I’m not moving.
The sheets are warm. The room is dim. My phone sits on the nightstand like a loaded weapon I’ve been refusing to pick up because I already know what’s on it.
Then my front door opened.
Not a knock. Not a text. Just the unmistakable sound of a key in a lock.
