I Stopped Loving Him When He Let Me Bleed Out novel Chapter 197

Sienna didn't respond. She simply snatched her suitcase back from his grip and walked away.

Finn stood frozen, watching her silhouette slowly dissolve into the thick morning mist.

A sudden memory hit him—the very first major fight they had years ago. He couldn't even remember what triggered it anymore.

All he remembered was Sienna standing behind him, desperately calling his name, begging him not to leave.

He hadn't looked back then. His departure had been every bit as ruthless and absolute as Sienna's was now.

Back then, he had held all the power in their relationship, completely oblivious to how terrifyingly fragile she felt.

Now, the tables had turned.

No matter how agonizing it was, he had to swallow the pain. This was exactly what he deserved.

-

Yolanda sat rigidly in her private study, the screen of her phone lighting up and going dark in an endless, maddening cycle.

Grant hadn't come home again last night.

She had lost count of how many months this had been going on.

The bed was massive, the sheets were freezing, and she had spent hours tossing and turning alone before finally slipping into a restless sleep around three in the morning.

This paralyzing loneliness was etched straight into her bones.

The very first thing Yolanda did upon waking was call Quincy.

His phone was still turned off.

He had been completely unreachable since the day before yesterday.

She tapped open her messages with Quincy. The last three texts were all from her, met only with deafening silence.

This had never, ever happened before.

Usually, whenever she sent a text or made a call, Quincy would immediately latch onto her like a desperate puppy, impossible to shake off.

He did exactly what he was told. If she pointed east, he would never dare look west.

She knew exactly what he was after, and she frankly didn't care.

Yolanda thrived on that intoxicating control. It reassured her that even past fifty, she still possessed a magnetic allure, and there were still men desperate to worship the ground she walked on.

But now, he was ghosting her.

Yolanda's knuckles turned stark white as she gripped the phone.

Footsteps echoed from the doorway.

She didn't bother looking up.

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