It was too late

Natalie's grip on his arm loosened, her mind-numbing for a brief moment. Her anger, once fiery and sharp, crumbled into despair. Tears welled in her eyes without her noticing, and the bitterness she had clung to faded, replaced by a heavy sense of worry.

"H-how bad is it this time?" she finally asked, her voice fragile. Her hand trembled as she withdrew it, balling it into a fist against her dress, trying to still the shaking.

Dominic exhaled slowly, hating himself for losing control. He wouldn't dare to turn around and look at her, so he stared at the floor instead. "The best I have... is a year."

Natalie felt her body freeze in disbelief, the tears spilling over naturally. Her heart, moments ago so ready to hate him—to despise and forget him—was now a mess of grief and confusion.