Stevie-lou's POV

I zipped up the last suitcase with trembling fingers, the sound harsh in the silent penthouse. The sound of it seemed to ricochet off the floors and glass windows, like the place was mocking me. Everything inside the penthouse was still…too still. The kind of stillness that sinks into your bones and whispers you don’t belong here anymore.

My heels clicked sharply against the floor as I dragged the suitcase into the living room, its wheels thudding behind me like an anchor I couldn’t shake. Every inch of this place was laced with memories…too many. The kitchen counter where he’d steal sips from my coffee. The sofa where...