I stepped out of the clinic into the crisp autumn air, feeling strangely light despite the weight of the conversation I'd just had. Breaking things off with Ian had been difficult but necessary. He'd been more understanding than I deserved.
"You're a good man, Lyra," he'd said as we hugged goodbye. "I think I knew from the beginning that your heart was somewhere else. I just hoped maybe it could find its way to me."
His graciousness had nearly brought me to tears. No accusations, no guilt trips—just acceptance and a genuine wish for my happiness.
I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head. The scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke filled my nostrils, reminding me that time was marching on. Life was changing. My life was changing.
I fumbled in my purse for my car keys, so lost in thought that I nearly collided with the broad chest suddenly blocking my path.
"Lyra."
