Lily immediately pulled back, setting the plate aside as she carefully climbed off the bed. Her voice was polite, though laced with quiet tension.
"I'll be outside," she murmured, not wanting to intrude.
Roger looked at her, surprised, but before she could take a step toward the door, Sylvester's voice stopped her.
"There's no need to leave," he said, his tone low. "Roger needs you. And I won't be long."
He still didn't look at either of them directly—his gaze fixed somewhere just past their shoulders, as if eye contact might break what little resolve he had left.
Roger studied him, taking in the slight slump of his shoulders, the deep-set fatigue in his eyes. It wasn't the image of the commanding man who'd always been in control. This was someone burdened by guilt—raw and human.
Without another word, Sylvester reached into his coat and pulled out a file, holding it out with both hands.
"She signed the divorce papers," he said. "It's done. You're free now, Roger. Completely."
