That’s true. It’s about time they both had some closure.


    Seven years at the very least, there should be an exnation.


    Better a clean ending than one that neveres.


    Noreen moved with uncharacteristic sluggishness, nothing like her usual efficient


    self.


    Strangely, Seth didn’t rush her. He just watched, silent and steady.


    The overhead light cast sharp shadows across his brows, hiding his eyes in darkness, making it impossible to read his expression.


    “Would you like some water?” Noreen asked, after changing her shoes, her voice breaking the quiet.


    There was no escaping what was bound to happen.


    “No, thanks.”


    She poured herself a cup of hot water instead.


    She needed to take her medication.


    When Seth noticed, his brows drew together. “Is it serious?”


    “What?”


    “Sophia said you called out sick today. Said you got hurt down at AeroEdge,” he rified.


    Three days had gone by before he bothered to ask–wasn’t that a littlete?


    Noreen drained the hot water, feeling the warmth seep into her chest, finally at


    ease.


    She spoke, calm and unhurried, “It stopped hurting ages ago. And I’m just taking something for my stomach.”


    Seth’s brow eased, then furrowed again. “Did you see a doctor?”


    “I did.”


    “What did they say?”


    “No alcohol. Take it easy and let myself heal.”


    <b>1/72 </b>


    12:01


    Seth’s frown deepened.


    Was he worried she wouldn’t be able to run interference for him at parties anymore, or regretting he’d let Bianca pressure her into drinking that night?


    Noreen figured it was probably the first.


    But to her surprise, Seth finally said something almost human: “Try not to drink so


    much from now on.”


    Noreen almost wanted to check if the sun would really rise in the west tomorrow.


    “Alright,” she replied.


    After all, she was already nning to quit.


    Seth, who’d been sitting this whole time, suddenly stood and walked toward her.


    Noreen’s lower back pressed against the dining table as he closed the distance,


    step by step.


    He stopped right in front of her.


    She didn’t say a word, holding his gaze, determined to memorize his face–just in


    case she never saw it again.


    Seth was undeniably handsome.


    The kind women whispered about: a night with him would always be worth it.


    And she’d spent seven years with this man.


    The knot in her chest, tangled for weeks, suddenly came undone.


    Sometimes, all you need is a different perspective.


    “Let me see,” Seth said abruptly, breaking her reverie.


    “Huh?” Noreen blinked, caught off guard.


    Was he always this direct? No warm–up, nothing?


    “Your injury,” Seth rified.


    “Oh.” She nced away, suddenly self–conscious. “I told you, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”


    Before she could finish, he reached for her arm and rolled up her sleeve, somehow knowing exactly where to look.


    The body is a strange thing–wounds slowly heal themselves.


    <b>2/3 </b>


    <b>12.01 </b>


    The injury wasn’t as gruesome as it had been at first, but the cut was long, running across her forearm.


    “Will it leave a scar?” he asked.


    “Maybe. Maybe not.” Noreen felt uneasy, not used to this version of Seth.


    Almost as if he actually cared.


    Was this their final moment of tenderness?


    There was no need for that. Not anymore.


    She pulled her arm back, her voice cooling. “Is there something else you wanted?”


    Wasn’t this just the end?


    Even if he didn’t say it, she would, sooner orter.


    Seth’s long fingers skimmed her waist.


    He knew all her sensitive spots–too well.


    Noreen’s body went rigid, a shiver running through her.


    His voice was low, right at her ear. “Is this the end?”


    So this was it. They’d finally reached that point.


    13.01