Vale, your car is ready.”
Marcus’s head came up.
For one dangerous second I saw the old instinct cross his face.
Stop the car.
Close the gate.
Control the outcome.
His hand curled into a fist.
Then slowly, deliberately, he opened it.
“Bring her bags outside,” he told the guard.
I stared at him.
The guard looked even more surprised than I was.
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
The guard collected two suitcases.
Another took the third.
Marcus stepped aside, leaving the path to the front door completely open.
No guards blocking me.
No command.
No threat.
The gesture should have made leaving easier.
Instead, it hurt in an entirely different way.
“You’re letting me go?”
His expression twisted.
“Everything in me wants to stop you.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Because if I make you stay, I prove every reason you’re leaving.”
The room seemed to shrink around us.
Marcus picked up the divorce papers.
He looked at my signature for several seconds.
Then he said, “I won’t sign these tonight.”
My shoulders stiffened.
He immediately continued.
“Not because I intend to trap you.
Because I’m asking for one thing before I do.”
“What?”
“One conversation after Christmas.
Somewhere you choose.
No lawyers in the room.
No security.
No staff.
If you still want the divorce after that, I’ll sign it.”
I studied him carefully.
“And the baby?”
His voice softened.
“The baby does not belong to me any more than you do.”
That surprised me enough that I could not answer.
“I want to be the father,” he said.
“I desperately want to be the father.
But I know wanting a child does not erase what I did to its mother.”
My eyes burned.
Marcus swallowed hard.
“I also know I have no right to ask you to trust promises made while I’m terrified.”
That was perhaps the most self-aware thing I had ever heard him say.
“So I won’t promise you I’ll change tonight,” he continued.
“I’ll show you what I do next, and you can decide what it means.”
Outside, snow drifted past the open doorway.
