Rachel’s POV
Vincent left before eight.
He made coffee and left a cup on the counter for me, telling me Wakeman was downstairs if I needed to go anywhere. I heard the front door open and close till I was alone in the house.
For a while I stayed where I was at the kitchen island with my hands around the mug, staring out at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The penthouse always felt different after Vincent left. It was quiet and allowed me to view things in a different perspective.
Last night kept replaying in my head in strange disconnected fragments. Vincent holding me in the office. Vincent carrying me to the car. Vincent sitting across from me at breakfast admitting things I never thought he’d say aloud.
And underneath all of that was one nagging thought, the watch.
T
