PROLOGUE (GAVIN AND JULIA'S STORY)
Julia's POV
"Gavin, I love you."
The confession escaped my lips without warning, hanging in the air between us like a dangerous secret finally set free. I stood frozen in his bedroom doorway, watching him methodically fold clothes into his travel bag, and the words just tumbled out before I could catch them.
His hands stilled over a navy sweater. I watched the muscles in his back go rigid, saw the way his fingers pressed into the fabric. He didn't turn around immediately, and for one foolish heartbeat, I thought maybe he was searching for the right words to tell me he felt the same way.
When he finally faced me, his expression was carefully blank. That mask he always wore when things got too real, too close.
He shook his head slowly. "Don't say things like that, Julia."
His tone wasn't harsh or cruel. It was worse than that. It was gentle, patient, like he was talking to a child who didn't understand the gravity of what she'd just said.
