Lia’s POV

The weight of Dante's decision between us, sure but burdensome. Tonight. We were leaving tonight. I should have felt relieved. Maybe even hopeful. But in our bed, in quiet, and staring at our partially packed suitcase on our bed, I only felt something in my chest, an ache. Leaving was what I should have done. I knew that. Leaving, though, meant good-bye—to our life, to our place, to the life we'd built so hard. To the vision of enduring. Dante moved up behind me, his weight ...