Too casual. Like she was breaking up with someone she'd been dating for three weeks instead of… whatever this was.
The label wants me back in London. It's a good opportunity. I should probably…
Cowardly. True, but cowardly.
By noon, she still hadn't come up with anything remotely adequate. By two o'clock, she was pacing the sitting room like a caged animal, her phone burning a hole in her pocket every time Claire texted asking for a decision.
By four, she'd finally accepted the inevitable truth: there was no good way to do this.
She was just going to have to go over there and say it.
ANNABELLE’S COTTAGE LOOKED exactly the same as always, cheerful, welcoming, with those ridiculous flower boxes and the doormat that saidWelcome!in swirling script. Like nothing had changed. Like the world hadn't shifted in the past twenty-four hours.
Raven stood on the doorstep and knocked before she could lose her nerve.
Annabelle answered almost immediately, like she'd been waiting. Her hair was loose around her shoulders instead of in its usual neat bun, and there were shadows under her eyes that hadn't been there yesterday.
"Raven." Her voice was soft, careful. "Hi."
"Hi." Raven shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." Annabelle stepped back, opening the door wider.
The cottage interior was as aggressively cheerful as the outside, all bright colors and comfortable furniture and photographs on every surface. It should have felt cluttered, but instead it just felt… lived in. Loved.
Raven stayed standing near the door.
"I wanted to apologize," she said, before Annabelle could speak. "For yesterday. For snapping at you. I know you were trying to help."
"Raven, no, I should—"
"Let me finish." Raven took a breath. "I was angry. I am angry. But I also understand that you genuinely thought you were doing the right thing. You always do. It's one of the most frustrating and wonderful things about you."
Annabelle's eyes were shimmering now, threatening tears. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have… I didn't think…"
"I know." And she did. That was the worst part. Annabelle hadn't done it out of malice or thoughtlessness. She'd done it because she cared. Because she'd wanted to protect Raven. Because fixing things was how she showed love.
Which made what Raven had to say next so much harder.
"I'm going back to London," she said.
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and final.
Annabelle went very, very still. "What?"
"I accepted the solo career opportunity. The one Claire's been pushing. I need to leave soon. Maybe in a few days."
"Is this because of the tabloids?" Annabelle's voice was barely above a whisper. "Because of what I—"
"No." Raven cut her off firmly. "This is because this was always temporary. I came here to write an album and figure my shit out. I've done that, or I’m on the way to doing it. Now I need to actually do something with it."
"But…" Annabelle looked lost, searching for words. "I thought…"
"I never meant to stay forever, Annabelle." The words felt cruel even as Raven said them. "I was always going to leave eventually."
"Right." Annabelle nodded mechanically. "Of course. I knew that. I just… I didn't think it would be this soon."
They stood there in silence, the space between them feeling wider than the few feet it actually was.
