"What were you going to say, Princess?" I probed desperately, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried to keep my tone gentle, but I couldn't hide the urgency seeping through.
"Enough, Kane, you had your chance," Chase warned, his voice slicing through the fragile atmosphere like a cold blade. I closed my eyes momentarily, battling the fierce urge to lash out at him. Every instinct screamed at me to confront him, to assert my right to be here in my own fucking home, but I knew it would only push Charlotte further away.
I reached out, my hand gently clasping her wrist, holding onto the fragile thread of hope dangling before me. Her skin was warm under my touch, a familiar comfort that I wasn't ready to relinquish.
She turned to face me fully, confusion clouding her delicate features. Her eyes dropped to where my hand held hers, and I felt a chasm widening between us.
"Please let me go," she said softly, nodding toward our joined hands.
The words hit me like a physical blow. Closing my eyes, I released her wrist, the warmth of her skin slipping away along with the longing that had momentarily ignited in my heart. The crushing weight of reality settled back onto my shoulders, heavy and suffocating.
I watched her hand drop, and with it, any remaining hope I had that things could get better seemed to fade into the abyss. She looked at me with a mixture of apology and confusion, and it tore at something deep within me.
"Charlotte..." I began, my voice trailing off as I realised there was nothing I could say to bridge the growing distance between us. She didn't remember—at least, not enough. The moments we shared, the love we had—it was all locked away from her, and I was powerless to reach it.
Her gaze flickered, and for a split second, I thought I saw a glimmer of something—regret, perhaps, or maybe a hint of the love. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving me grasping at shadows.
Chase stepped closer, his protective stance making it clear I was no longer welcome. "You should go," he stated firmly.
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