"Where are you?" Harland’s impatient voice barked through the line. "Get back here. We’re throwing a party for Maureen’s return."
Maureen. The real daughter. His first love.
I ended the call without replying. The world around me blurred as tears spilled down my cheeks. My life had crumbled into ruins, leaving me utterly alone.
Avery's POV
I shoved open the heavy oak doors of the packhouse, stepping into the grand foyer. The familiar scent of pine and earth filled my lungs, yet it no longer felt like home. My fingers brushed against my swollen eyes, willing away the redness before anyone could notice.
His scent was still here—strong, commanding, impossible to ignore. Even before I saw him, I heard his footsteps. And then, there he was.
Harland’s sharp gaze locked onto mine the moment he rounded the corner.
“Avery,” he said, his tone cool and clipped. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
A part of me wanted to believe he asked because he cared. That maybe, just maybe, I still mattered. But there was no softness in his face, no concern—only impatience.
“It’s nothing,” I murmured, lowering my gaze. “Just... got something in them.”