The Illusion of Escape [POV: Abigail]
I stared at the screen, my grip tightening around the phone long after the call had ended. Evie’s voice still echoed in my mind, each word slicing deeper than I wanted to admit.
Hannah attempted to take her life.
She lost the baby.
The weight of it pressed against my chest, thick and suffocating. I should tell Vincent. He needed to know. He had been tangled in Hannah’s web just as much as I had. This was part of the mess we had left behind, and no matter how much I wanted to pretend it wasn’t our problem anymore, it was.
But before I could gather my thoughts, I heard movement from the bedroom. The rustling of sheets, the creak of the mattress, then—
“Who was that?”
Vincent’s voice was still groggy from sleep, heavy and deep, laced with a familiarity I once thought was lost to me.
I turned slowly, phone still clutched in my hand, watching as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He leaned against the doorway, shirtless, the morning light casting soft shadows over the muscles I had traced with my fingers just hours ago.
I opened my mouth, but the words died before I could form them.
He had no idea.
No idea that while he lay tangled in my sheets, our past was still unraveling just a few miles away. No idea that the woman who had shattered us had just lost everything.
I should tell him.
But instead—
I shut the phone off and placed it on the nightstand.
I turned back to him, keeping my expression unreadable. “It was no one.”
Vincent watched me carefully, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn’t push. Instead, he walked toward me, his movements slow, deliberate. His hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him, his breath warm against my skin.
“Do you really think we can still make this work?” I asked softly, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
Vincent didn’t hesitate.
He pulled me even closer, lowering his head until his lips brushed against my shoulder. “Of course, baby. We always make it work.”
His kisses trailed lower, his touch familiar, igniting something I thought had burned out long ago.
But as I shut my eyes, trying to lose myself in him, it wasn’t passion that consumed me—it was doubt.
The world outside this room was crumbling. Hannah was falling apart, Nate was still waiting for me, and deep down, I knew that nothing we did in this moment could erase what had already happened.
Still—
I wanted to forget.
I needed to escape, even if it was only temporary.
A shaky breath left my lips as I whispered, “Then take me away.”
Vincent stilled, his lips lingering against my skin before pulling back slightly. He looked at me, searching my face for something unspoken.
“Where?” he asked.
I met his gaze, forcing a smile I wasn’t sure I believed in. “Anywhere. Just take me before I change my mind.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, slowly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—the same boyish grin that used to make my heart race, the same one that once made me believe in forever.
“Tell me where you want to go,” he murmured.
