The weight of the night finally crushed the last of Nina's steel-plated composure. Standing on the rain-slicked curb, watching the ghost of her past drive away with her future, she felt her lungs tighten until each breath became a battle. The cold air didn't wake her, it only sharpened the hollow ache in her chest, turning it into something physical, something she could almost touch.
"I just want to get home and cry," she whispered, her voice fracturing against the wind.
But as she took a step toward the darkness of the street, her body refused to cooperate. Her heels felt like lead weights, anchoring her to the pavement. The thought of her empty, silent apartment, filled only with the echoes of her own failure and the crushing realization that Austin Hale had won yet again was unbearable.
