Page 68 of Punishing His Runaway Bride

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Stuff fell everywhere.

Squatted, picked it up piece by piece, shoved in.

Clothes, shoes, that old photo of Sophie as a kid.

That was it.

Lived here over six months, but my stuff? Just this.

Lifted the suitcase.

To the door.

Hand on the knob.

Paused.

Pushed open.

Out.

Hall long.

Step by step.

Heavy.

Through the hall, down stairs.

Sun streamed in windows, hit me.

Blinding.

Squinted, kept going.

Past living room, dining room, this house I never truly belonged in.

To the front door.

Elsa stood there.

"Mrs. Visconti?" She looked, puzzled. "Heading out?"

"Yeah."

"Need a car?"

"No."

Pushed the door.

Stepped out.

Sun blinding.

Suitcase in hand, I walked.

Over lawn, past fountain, through iron gate.

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