And now—Now I would ensure that nothing in her world could threaten her again. Even if she never understands the cost of that promise. Even if she never returns.
I closed the file, and the house remained silent.
And for the first time in years, the grief I have long kept contained was awake. And I didn’t know what I was going to do with it.
A knock landed against my office door just after sunrise.
Geoffrey.
I did not answer immediately.
The second knock was firmer.
“Sir.”
“Enter.”
The door opened, and Geoffrey stepped inside with his immaculate suit, as always, with his perfect posture. Although a carefully neutral expression gave him away, his gaze moved once around the room.
The open files. The empty coffee cup I did not remember finishing. The stack of printed documents spread across my desk. Then to me.
“You did not sleep,” he observed.
“I’m fine.”
“That was not my question.”
I didn’t respond. He studied me a moment longer, and something shifted behind his composed expression.
“The bedroom door is open,” he said quietly.
The words landed like a stone. I held his gaze. “Yes.”
“She entered it.” Geoffrey stills.
“Yes. She did.”
“And you?”
I leaned back in my chair as a large sigh left my body. “Told her to leave.” The admission tastes metallic.
Geoffrey’s brows drew together slightly. “Where is she now?”
“She left.” I shrugged, attempting indifference, but I was anything but.
Geoffrey’s composure gave a rare crack. “She left the room?”
“She left the house.”
Silence falls heavily between us.
“What do you mean she left?” he asks carefully.
“She left. I’m not sure what you aren’t understanding!”
“Raphael.” The use of my given name is deliberate.
I leaned back in my chair. “She opened the doors,” I said flatly. “Both of them.”
