Tara’s POV

He didn’t leave.

I stood in Cassandra’s living room doorway, my arms crossed tight over my chest, like that could hold everything inside—my heart, my anger, the stupid, stubborn part of me that still wanted to believe him. Adrian had slipped out quietly after giving me one long look that said, "Call if you need me." The front door clicked shut behind him. Now, it was just us—Asher, on the couch, elbows on his knees, head bowed like a man waiting for his sentence, and me in the doorway, refusing to step closer.

He lifted his head, eyes red-rimmed, voice cracking. “Tara… please. Just hear me out.”

I...