The night was deep and heavy, thick as the mournful notes of a love song.

Julian stood motionless, his eyes tracking Francesca as she walked away.

He was the one who had let her go first. So why did his eyes burn, something warm and unyielding threatening to spill over? Why did it feel as though the weight of it might crush the breath out of him?

Hadn't he prepared for this?

Hadn't he braced himself for the moment of ...