Abigail’s face drained of color in an instant. The shock hit her like a physical blow, and her head buzzed with the force of it. Before they could go any further, her legs gave way, and she stumbled out of the villa, her steps unsteady and frantic.
She ran without thinking, her body moving on pure instinct, until her legs could carry her no longer. She bent over, supporting herself with her hands on her knees, a single tear slipping down her cheek without warning.
She couldn’t hold on anymore.
Falling to the ground, she clutched her chest, trying to ease the unbearable ache that felt like her heart was being torn apart. But nothing worked—the pain only deepened, and the tears flowed uncontrollably, as if they were a floodgate opened wide.
In less than a month, she had experienced pain she hadn’t felt in the past three years. She was done. She no longer had any expectations.
We’re no longer on the same path. It’s better to end it now.
Wiping her tears away, she shakily pulled out her phone, dialing a number with trembling hands. "Director, I’ve made up my mind. I want to participate in that project."