Lena sat at the corner of the club, her fingers wrapped around a glass of water she hadn’t touched. The music thumped through the room, loud and sharp, but all she could hear was Grayson’s voice.

The words echoed in her head like a cruel reminder of how much damage she’d done.

She kept glancing at the entrance, hoping, praying, that he’d come back. Maybe he just needed air. Maybe he needed time to cool down.

But he didn’t come back.

Minutes turned to hours, and the club started to empty out.

Lena’s chest ached, her heart heavy like it was sinking lower and lower inside her. She rubbed her...