"Everett..."
Just hearing his name on her lips made Everett's heart leap frantically into his throat.
She was wearing simple, casual clothes, completely devoid of the heavy makeup and careful styling she used to wear just to please him.
Yet, standing under the neon lights, he thought she looked breathtakingly beautiful.
The painful throbbing in his chest intensified.
Logic screamed at him that Daphne had moved on.
Regardless of whether Sam deserved her, she had made her choice.
He had no right to sabotage her new relationship.
But logic was entirely drowned out by visceral instinct.
Every nerve in his body was screaming at him: Tell her! Tell her right now! Tell her you love her!
A delusional voice in the back of his mind insisted that if he just confessed, she would instantly dump Sam and fall back into his arms.
He didn't know where this arrogant confidence came from, but he was bizarrely certain that Daphne still belonged to him.
After all, she never would have broken up with him if he hadn't initiated it.
His heart pounded like a jackhammer.
He locked eyes with her, his gaze burning with sudden intensity.
"Daphne, actually, I..."
"Stop coming to find me, Everett."
Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water, freezing the confession in his throat.
"Wait, Daphne, I just need to tell you something—"
"But I have nothing to say to you."
Her voice was glacial, her posture uncompromising.



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