The fire crackled as the last of the album turned to ash. Luther’s shoulders sagged as he stared at the remains, his carefully controlled facade cracking.
“She means nothing to me,” he said, his voice low. “Cornelia is just...a distraction. You’ve always been the one I—”
A bitter laugh escaped Seraphine’s lips, silencing him. “A distraction? Is that supposed to make me feel better? You humiliated me, Luther. You don’t get to rewrite the story just because it suits you now.”
He reached for her, desperation evident in his trembling hand, but she stepped back, her gaze colder than the night air.
“This is over,” she said firmly. “You made your choice, and now I’m making mine.”
Luther’s expression hardened, desperation giving way to something darker. “You think you can just walk away from me?” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she replied, unflinching. “For the first time, I’m choosing myself.”
Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing by the firepit, the ashes of their shared history smoldering at his feet.