Sandy's POV
The knock on my door didn't surprise me when the butler arrived with appropriate clothing. I had expected this formality from Charles.
After my bath, I slipped into the pink floral dress that fell just above my knees. The soft fabric felt foreign against my skin after everything I had endured. I lingered behind the bathroom door, my fingers trembling as they traced the wooden surface.
Charles was waiting beyond this barrier. That certainty made my chest tighten with an emotion I refused to name.
Throughout our earlier conversation, I had maintained my composure. I pretended his words meant nothing, that his decision to abandon what we shared wouldn't shatter me completely. But with each passing moment, the facade became harder to sustain.
Was he truly planning to walk away from me?
Would we become strangers after everything we had been through?
