“Tell me something. Anything. Give me something, Kenra, because I can’t just move on or wait or let you fucking go when you walk out that door. Not this time. Not after … you said you were ready. And I believed you, Kens.” My shoulders sag, and she whimpers, her hand lifting to cover the sound as she cries. “If there’s more going on here than just you wanting to leave, tell me. Let me help you.”
