Vincent's POV
It had been two weeks since she left.
I had let her go, not only because she threatened to take her own life, but because she needed someone she could grieve with, someone who could listen to her pain and her complaints without walls between them, and I was not that person. She refused to open up to me, and watching her break in silence had filled me with a guilt I didn't know how to ease.
She didn't know it, but I had been keeping a close eye on her. Every move she made, every step she took toward rebuilding her life, I knew about it. It hurt more than I cared to admit to see that she was doing better without me, because I wasn't.
What she also didn't know was that once I marked her as mine, my entire existence had begun to orbit around her. Before her, my life had been careless. I threw money at women who caught my attention, drowned boredom in bodies and distractions, and never once thought twice about it. I wasn't proud of that life, but it had been easy.
