Somewhere along the way, that man had vanished, replaced by someone colder. Sharper. Someone who looked at her like she was excess weight. This Vincent didn’t know her. Or maybe he’d never really wanted to. Her chest tightened as the thought settled: the man she loved didn’t exist anymore. If he ever had.
At a stoplight, her mind drifted—unwanted, uninvited—to the company. To the books she’d kept balanced for years. To the things she’d smoothed over quietly. Decisions Vincent had made without asking. Risks he’d taken assuming she’d catch the fallout before it mattered.