2 septembre 2026

The Last Christmas He Ever Controlled

I picked up my purse.

“That’s it?” Curtis said, incredulous. “You’re walking away? In the middle of Christmas?”

I turned to face him.

And for the first time in years… I really looked at him.

Not the man I married.

Not the man I built a life with.

Just the man standing in front of me now.

“You’re right,” I said quietly. “This is the middle of something.”

He folded his arms. “Then act like it.”

I held his gaze.

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