Blanche's POV
The night breeze swept through the grass around us, creating a pocket of silence where only Vincent and I remained.
When Vincent asked his question, I dropped my eyes, my voice coming out rough and strained. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself. It wasn't worth it."
All those years I'd thrown away on a man who couldn't have cared less about me.
The early winter cold bit through my flimsy evening gown, chilling me to the bone.
Vincent's expression crumpled when he heard my response, pain flashing across his features.
He moved closer, wrapping his warm jacket around my shoulders before pulling me against his chest.
His hold was intense, almost frantic, like he was trying to merge our bodies together. Burying his face in my neck, he whispered with raw desperation, "Please... stop hurting over him."
Enveloped in his jacket, I felt his warmth spreading through me.
Both his body and the fabric radiated heat that seeped into my skin.
