Chapter 9: Cold Silence
Maddox watched her leave, her back straight, her movements deliberate and composed as always. Each step she took felt like a physical blow to him, each one further driving a wedge between the two of them. He wanted to call out to her, to stop her, but he was frozen in place. The silence in the room felt like an oppressive weight, the kind that settles deep in your chest and refuses to be shaken off.
He stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the door through which she had disappeared. The city outside continued its chaotic rhythm, unaware of the storm brewing inside him. But inside this room, inside his mind, everything was still. Silent.
The distant hum of the city’s nightlife car alarms, honking taxis, and the occasional shout of laughter from a bar down the street felt muffled like it was happening far away from where Maddox stood. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but it wasn’t until the clock on the wall ticked sharply that he realized the time had passed. He had wasted another precious moment.
His phone buzzed again, this time pulling him out of his stupor. He glanced at the screen, immediately regretting it.
It was Victor again.
"We need to talk. Now."
Maddox didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His head was too clouded with thoughts of Cambria, of the pain in her voice when she said it was too late. His chest tightened, and he knew deep down that she was right. She had left. She had moved on, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
He turned away from the door and walked back to the desk, his gaze landing on the half-filled glass of whiskey he had left behind. He picked it up and drained the contents in one go, feeling the sharp burn of alcohol as it slid down his throat. It didn’t help. The bitterness didn’t numb the ache in his heart.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.