With his car parked in a secluded spot along the cliff, the headlights blinking dimly, Sean slammed the door shut and walked over with two beer cans in hand.
"Here," he said, passing one to her before leaning against the bonnet beside her.
Silence settled between them, broken only by the soft click of the can as Gina opened it and took a slow sip.
Ever since she'd told him she was looking for someone, Sean hadn't said a word. Instead, he had quietly wrapped up his work and driven her to this isolated place — away from the world, away from curious eyes — giving her the space to gather her thoughts and talk when she was ready.
Gina found the gesture thoughtful, as if he instinctively understood that even four walls could make her feel trapped, and he wanted to offer her the freedom to speak without them.
"I never talk about my past. But now that you've left me with no choice, I need to come clean, Sean."
