Someone new. Someone still forming. Someone who needed to stand on her own before she could truly give herself to another relationship.
In the kitchen, Duke had made eggs and toast, his back to her as she entered. The domesticity of the scene made her heart ache. This could be their life—mornings together, casual intimacy, the comfortable rhythm of two people who fit.
But not yet. Not until she knew who she was without a man to define her.
“Smells good,” she said, announcing her presence.
Duke turned, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Hope you’re hungry.”
They ate in awkward silence, the ease of last night evaporated in the cold light of day. When they finished, Valentina gathered her courage.
“I think I should move back to my trailer,” she said. “At least for now.”
Duke’s jaw
