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Sixty two

Zane’s POV

“I’m sorry, Belle,” I whispered, the weight of my words heavy in the quiet of the night. “I’ll leave you be for now. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

My voice sounded hollow, even to me, and I hated how much it felt like defeat. But what else could I do? I had already done enough damage. I turned away from her, my heart pounding as I walked toward my room. Each step felt heavier than the last, like I was trudging through mud.

The VIP section was eerily quiet, more than usual. It was a stark contrast to the storm raging in my mind. Maybe that’s why I noticed it—how still everything was. It gave me too much space to think, to question whether I’d said the right things or if I had just messed up everything even more. Did she hate me now? Had I pushed her too far, saying things that made sense only to me?

I reached my door, fumbling with the key card, trying to slide it into the reader while my thoughts swirled in chaos. I told myself that I’d just pretend to sleep, maybe g
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