ay, a curated feed of my own personal hell: photos of Connor and Gemma at a charity gala, his arm possessively around her waist;

nothing. The love, the pain, the heartbreak... it had

y, I called my

I said, my

asked, his voice full of

said. "Execu

a moment. "And yo

ion. "All of them. Find a buyer who

life's work... it's

re," I said, cutting him o

to a hotel. I went back to the ho

ect held a memory, a ghost of a life that was no longer mine. The vase we bought in Italy

nt door opened. Connor walked in, Gemma clinging to his arm. She wa

ked, a look of pure

g a small, elegantly wrapped box. "Haven.

to me. I just

se, I'll make it up to you. Gemma will be compensated for her troubles, a

a let out a small

d flying to her chest

an instant. "Are you oka

ncern, completely forgetting my existence

ch, his back to me. I co

impered. "I'm scared of what she'l

oice a low murmur. "I won't

nal, pathetic scene

e, and he was still trying

away, my mind clea