Violet sobbed.
The sound came out harsh, broken, jagged—like something tearing from deep inside her.
Her entire body shook with it, her grip on his hand tightening weakly, fingers trembling against his.
“Just... leave me,” she choked out between sobs.
Her voice cracked, fraying at the edges.
“Let me be. You’ve made it clear I don’t matter anymore. Just go.”
“No.”
The response was immediate.
Vincenzo shook his head, just once.
Small.
But decisive.
“Let me stay with you a little longer—”
“Leave!”
Her voice shot up suddenly—raw, sharp, full of something deeper than pain.
Anger.
“Just... leave!”
The words echoed faintly in the room, heavy with emotion.
“You’ve already chosen her!” she cried, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
“Go!”
Vincenzo exhaled slowly.
Then nodded.
Once.
“Call me if you need me,” he murmured.
He released her hand and rose to his feet.
But before he could take a step—
Violet’s hand shot out.
Weak. Trembling.
But desperate enough to catch the fabric of his sleeve.
“Are you really going to leave me?” she whispered.
Her voice had softened again.
