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My mind spiraled. The thought of him leaving, moving on without me, was too much. The girls finished packing in silence. I rolled over onto my side as the feelings of loss consumed me. I had nothing left.

There wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. I wouldn’t stand in his way. He more than likely processed everything and had decided I wasn’t worth it in the end. A small part of me realized how unfair my attitude was.

I pushed him away. This was what I wanted, to be alone, to grieve alone.

I sighed, the truth was, I deserved this. The girls stayed just long enough to get me packed. Then they left, taking all the noise with them. My gaze drifted to the sketchbook resting on the bedside table.

Declan’s drawing with Alek’s tiny footprints. I reached for it almost without thinking. The cover felt worn beneath my fingertips from how often I’d picked it up these past few days without ever finding the courage to turn the page.

I closed my eyes and gathered it against my chest, and pretended. Just for a heartbeat, that it was him. That if I breathed deeply enough, I’d catch the familiar scent of cedar and soap lingering on one of his ridiculous oversized T-shirts.

My arms tightened around the sketchbook. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But it was all I had left. A sob escaped before I could swallow it back.

I couldn’t be mad at him. He had honored me in every way a man could. From the beginning, he had. I bit my lip to stem the need to scream. This wasn’t him giving up on me. I was the one who had given up on him.

And now he was leaving.

The Uber pulled up in front of Isabella’s parents’ house, the familiar sight stirring up the heartache. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not any more.

But I had one last thing I wanted to leave behind. A parting gift, if you will. Kinsley had mentioned everyone was already at the beach house, so I knew the house would be empty. It was safer that way.

I hadn’t expected an invitation after everything that had happened.

Still… The silence hurt.

Not seeing Isabella was one thing. Losing the family we’d built together was another. I missed the chaos of the Kings arguing over nothing, Marcel pretending not to referee while secretly doing exactly that, Tori reading in a corner, Kinsley singing, Sebastian being Sebastian.

I missed belonging somewhere. More than anything, I missed the certainty that if life knocked me flat on my ass, there would always be someone there to help me back up.

“I’ll just be a minute.” I told the driver before climbing out.

My gaze dropped to the small package resting on the seat beside me. Maybe this was foolish. Maybe she’d never even open it. But loving Isabella had never been about guarantees.

The first gift was a custom heart-shaped locket crafted in fourteen-carat white gold. Three roses adorned the front. One represented Isabella, its center set with a small diamond. The other two held tiny amethysts, one for each of our daughters and the month they should have entered this world.

Inside, opposite one another, sat miniature copies of their ultrasound photographs. Beneath them, a single inscription.

I will hold you in my heart until I can hold you in Heaven.

My throat tightened. I’d read those words a hundred times while deciding whether this was a kindness or another burden to place on her shoulders. In the end, I couldn’t let our girls disappear into silence.

The second gift wasn’t wrapped.

It was a custom sketchbook, bound in soft leather and engraved with Isabella’s initials. Inside the cover, I’d written the only thing my heart knew to say.

This book is for the sole purpose of drawing the dolls and giving them a name. They deserve to be known, and I trust you will see it through. Thank you for allowing me to be part of their story.

Kinsley told me Isabella hadn’t picked up a pencil since the attack. That knowledge haunted me more than I expected. Drawing had always been where Isabella found herself. When she was ready, I hoped my sketchbook would be a small part of that step forward.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I had to remind myself that leaving was for the best. Distance would give us both the space we needed. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

I only wished the ache in my chest would come into agreement with my head. It lingered day and night, a hollow reminder of everything we’d almost had. I drew in a slow breath.

Moving forward was the only thing left within my control. Even if it felt like I was leaving my soul behind. I lifted my hand to knock. The front door swung open. Vincent Caruso stopped short.

“Pasha?”

Fuck