ALEXIA – POV
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that makes you hear your own breathing, your own thoughts, your own breaking.
I didn't take much. Just a small bag. Some cash from the drawer. The tattered dress I'd worn the first day I arrived. No shoes.
Maybe I wanted the gravel to hurt. Maybe I needed it to.
My hands trembled as I pulled the front door open. The sun had started rising, casting pale gold fingers over the cliffs beyond the villa. It should've looked beautiful. But all I could think about was how far I'd have to walk before it stopped hurting.
Aiden wasn't in his room.
Or the kitchen.
He was probably passed out somewhere, sleeping off the bottle.
Good.
I didn't want him to see me like this.
I stepped outside, the bag slung over one shoulder, and made it five feet down the path before my knees buckled.
I sank.
Not gracefully. Not dramatically.
Just folded.
Like someone pulled the plug on whatever was keeping me upright.
