The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 282

Garrison retreated to his bedroom, shut the door, and plugged the flash drive into his laptop.

As his finger hovered over the power button, he realized his hand was shaking—a visible, uncontrollable tremor, as if his very flesh was rejecting what he was about to witness.

The screen flickered to life. He double-clicked the video file. Forty-seven minutes long. Created four years ago.

Four years ago.

Sloane had just given birth to Archie and was still on maternity leave. He couldn't even remember what he was doing that day. He forced himself to think, recalling only a blurry silhouette: The Vitas Strain cultivation was at a critical stage. He practically lived at the lab, spending night after night there, only dropping by the house to grab a clean shirt. Archie would be wailing in the crib while Sloane paced the floor with him. Garrison had just grabbed his clothes and left, entirely tuning out whatever she had been saying.

He clicked play.

The second the video loaded, her voice filled the room.

"—Is it recording? Rosemary, can you check the angle for me?"

The frame shook before focusing on her face. Sloane was looking down, adjusting the camera by her headlamp. She was so close to the lens that Garrison could see the microscopic beads of sweat on her nose and the tiny mole hidden in her eyebrow.

She wore no makeup. Her cheeks still carried the soft fullness of her recent pregnancy, her fair skin flushed with a healthy, radiant glow. Her lips were naturally full and red, pressed together in concentration before the dive.

Her eyes were bright—not a manicured, superficial sparkle, but a fierce, burning vitality radiating from the deepest part of her soul.

Those slightly upturned, feline eyes were intently focused on her gear, her eyelashes casting delicate shadows in the sunlight. She wore a black wetsuit, the zipper still half-open, revealing a glimpse of her collarbone.

Garrison's heart seized. Before he realized it, he reached out, his fingertips hovering a millimeter above the screen, tracing her cheek.

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