Jonathan's POV
Savannah hates me.
Watching her fragile form struggle with that worn suitcase tears at something deep in my chest. The woman I married used to radiate strength and confidence, but recent events have hollowed her out completely. Her wrists look breakable now, as if the weight of her luggage might snap them.
Her fingernails are ragged and torn, fresh bandages wrapped around palms that won't stop bleeding.
The memory of finding her still haunts me. Blood and dirt caked every inch of her skin. Her body shook uncontrollably from cold and terror, eyes wide with a fear I never want to see again.
And now she's preparing to vanish from my life.
I don't know how to make her stay.
What words could possibly reach her now?
If I hadn't abandoned her that night. If I'd chosen her over duty and stayed by her side instead of chasing power.
If we'd never attended that damned gala at all.
