The suitcase was open on the bed, half-packed but already too heavy. Not with clothes—but with everything Kai wasn't telling her.
He folded his final shirt painstakingly, as if holding the moment out would make it easier. It didn't.
The Paris light came through the window, golden and soft, falling on the pale walls of his little room over Café de Lune. The faint clinking of dishes still lingered below, Vianne's humming a song she always hummed when she didn't want to weep. Ash sat beside the desk, quiet but there, scrolling through something on his phone with a furrowed brow.
Kai gazed at the crumpled clothing in his hand before finally speaking, "He didn't even glance back."
Ash didn't feign ignorance. "You didn't either."
Kai laughed coldly. "Because I was too scared that if I did, I'd break down once more."
Ash got up and moved over to the window. "Then break down. Perhaps that's what you require."
