13
RAVEN
An hour later.
Without askinghim to do so, the driver makes a U-turn and pulls up in front of Kai’s place.
He’s right.
My stuff is here. And my stuff needs to go. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough. And the limousine needs to leave too.
We say our goodbyes before he veers the car away.
He stays at a hotel not far from here. I could text him anytime, and he’d show up within minutes.
Kai’s security detail might be home, but there is nothing he can do to stop me from doing what I plan to do.
I glance at his house.
The decoration lights are up. They are always on, the lights above the door and the one in the lobby gleaming brightly.
I bring my shopping bags inside and check the rooms.
There’s no one here.
His bodyguard must be off today. Good. It’s not like I need someone with me all the time.
All these people working for him while helping me are also his discreet way of keeping an eye on me.
He knows what I’m doing when I’m doing it.
Tonight we all take a break from this thing.
He’ll spend the night in Manhattan while I go home for good.
I collect everything that belongs to me, from my sweatpants, T-shirts, cami, socks, sneakers, winter jacket, gloves, and hats to my tablet, toothbrush, hairbrush, and moisturizer. The night cream and my makeup case.
I toss everything into my shopping bags until they’re heavy and bulky and walk around the house, carrying them while making sure I haven’t missed anything.
I pick up one last thing––a pair of red panties I left in his closet––before scowling at his perfectly pressed clothes, turning off the lights, and leaving his bedroom.
Then the floor.
And the house.
I slam the door closed and take a deep breath in front of his place.
A few random snowflakes float in the air.
For the most part, it stopped snowing, and a huge, cold, silver moon peeks through the clouds.
The ghostly light glazes the street, the nearby houses, and the snow-covered front lawns and trees.
It looks beautiful.
Despite how cold it is and how hard the icy air nips at my skin, I can’t help myself and stall for a moment, taking it all in.
I look at my small place and feel bad that I’ve neglected it. I know these two weeks have been too crazy, but the adjustment period is over, and I need to seriously make a plan.