He took a slow sip, then looked up at her, his gaze sharp. “It’s over, Natalie,” he said quietly but resolutely. Each word landed like a blow. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the papers, her fingers gripping the edges.
“Why?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “What did I do? I don’t understand.” John stood slowly, the scrape of his chair against the floor sounding louder in the silence of the room. He walked toward her with measured steps, his face composed, but there was an undercurrent of something colder in his voice.