Tucked it beneath her arm.
And walked out.
She didn’t call that night.
Or the next day.
Archie spent forty-eight hours pacing the apartment.
Part of him knew he had behaved terribly.
Another part kept repeating everything his father and friends had planted in his head.
She’s manipulating you.
This silence is a tactic.
She wants you afraid of losing her.
Then another thought came.
What if he really had nothing?
No penthouse.
No trust.
No family fortune.
No private equity career.
Would Skyla still choose him?
The question became an obsession.
By Sunday evening, Archie had convinced himself he needed an answer.
So he designed a test.
He texted Skyla.
I’m sorry.
Please come over.
I need to tell you something.
She arrived Monday evening.
The moment she walked inside, she knew something was wrong.
Archie sat on the edge of the sofa.
Hair messy.
Shirt collar open.
