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I knew he was informed. “Yeah.” And it’s as foreign now as my new life had been the day I was forced into a wedding gown that wasn’t mine.

Brennan pets Calypso. Her purrs are a soft hum in the stifling quiet of my apartment.

“How is it?”

Maybe I should be grateful for the mundane conversation. “It’s…” Hard to define. Struggling with words, I shrug. “Different.”

The AC unit is fighting to keep up with the Houston heat, and suddenly the place feels fifteen degrees warmer.

Brennan looks at me, his penetrating blue eyes pinning me in place.

The late afternoon light filters through the blinds, painting his face in sharp angles and shadows, and I’m struck by how different he looks here—not the unyielding enforcer of Dorian’s world, but a man who is human and tired.

“Different how?” he prompts, his tone is gentle, but it cuts through the haze of my thoughts.

I wrap my arms around myself, nails biting into my skin to anchor me. “I’m not the same.” Teaching used to be my haven, where I could lose myself in the cadence of words, in the spark of a student’s understanding.

Today’s lecture felt like a lie. My voice sounded hollow as I talked about independence while being chained to memories of them—of him, of Dorian, of a life I never belonged in.

He leans forward, and Calypso makes herself more comfortable, shifting in his lap, her tail flicking lazily. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

No doubt his guards report what time I turn off the light at night. If I ever do.

Brennan has not taken his sharp gaze off me.

He knows me, and he’s too observant not to notice the shadows under my eyes or the way my clothes hang even looser than they should.

“You’re beautiful, Isla. As always. Breathtaking. But…”

“Don’t say it.” I’m holding on by a thread, and I don’t need anyone pointing out that the ends are fraying.

Instead of looking at him, I focus on a stray thread in the rug, anything to avoid the pull of his presence. Still, I inhale his scent, of determination and steel. It’s as grounding as it is raw. He’s Brennan, all Brennan, breathtaking and tender, making my heart twist with every breath.

“I didn’t come here to bring you back.”

Stunned, I freeze. “No?”

“After everything that happened that night, I left.”

The news stuns me, and I grab hold of the back of the couch for support.

Calypso looks over, and Brennan soothes her.

“You…?”

“I’m in an apartment in the same building.” His hand stills. “But I haven’t seen him.”

Speechless, I wait for him to go on.

“I won’t stand by and watch him destroy himself.” Pointedly he looks at me. “And everyone around him.”

His jaw is tight, his eyes distant, like he’s staring at a wound only he can see. “He needs to figure out his shit.”

I blink as his words sink in.

Brennan and Dorian are inseparable, two halves of one whole. Brennan walking away is unthinkable, like the earth splitting.

The thought of them broken apart mirrors the crack inmy own heart, and I’m not sure if it’s relief or grief that chokes me.