Minutes later, in Abigail's loneliness, the nursery door hesitantly creaked open. Abigail didn’t need to look to know it was him. She felt the shift in the air, the weight of his presence lingering uncertainly by the doorway.
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. She could feel his eyes on her, heavy with guilt, with regret.
Slowly, she turned her head. Kai stood there like a man stripped bare. His shoulders were hunched, and his face was shadowed with remorse. He looked almost like a child at that moment, like a wet puppy caught in the rain, desperate to be let in but afraid of rejection.
Her chest ached at the sight of him.
She had always known. Somewhere in the quiet corners of her heart, she had carried the truth all along that she had never been more than a replacemen
