She leaves, and I let my head fall into my hands, wondering how much longer I can hold myself together before I break apart.

The morning drags on in a blur of unanswered emails and half-finished sketches, my brain refusing to focus on anything but the text burning a hole in my phone screen.

Don’t call or text me again. That would only make this worse. This relationship is over.

I’ve read it so many times I can see the words even when I close my eyes, looping through my mind like a broken record I can’t turn off.

I stare down at the mood board glowing on my tablet, the layout of fabrics, color swatches, and furniture samples blurring together into an uninspired mess. I’ve rearranged them at least a dozen times, but nothing clicks. Every combination is wrong—disjointed and lifeless.

My work, the thing that has always grounded me, is foreign today. Like I’m grasping at something that just isn’t there. I set the tablet aside, rubbing at the ache forming between my brows.

A shaky breath escapes me, and I blink hard against the sting in my eyes.

I don’t understand. I just don’t. We were fine. Weren’t we?

I squeeze my phone so tightly it’s a wonder it doesn’t crack.

What did I do wrong?

The logical part of my brain tells me that obsessing over this won’t fix anything. But logic and heartbreak don’t go hand in hand.

I flip my phone over on the desk, pushing it away as though that will somehow stop me from reaching for it again. I need to focus, to work, to do something productive.

Instead, I sit there, staring at nothing, my heart aching in ways I don’t even have words for.

Gabby’s voice cuts through the hum of my thoughts, making me jump. “Magnolia, can you step into my office for a moment?”

My stomach twists. This is it—Gabby’s going to tell me I’m heading back to Sydney. And I should be thrilled. It’s what I wanted. What we wanted. But now? Now I don’t know what to feel. How can I go back to the city where he is and not see him? And worse… what if I do see him? What would I say? What would I do? My heart’s still in pieces, and the idea of pretending I’m fine in the same city as Alex Sebring seems impossible. But how do I decline after being so adamant about going without telling Gabby why? I’m not sure which version of this will break me more.

I force a nod and push myself up from my desk, hands trembling. The walk to Gabby’s office seems longer than usual, my heels clicking against the tile floor in a steady rhythm.