Chapter 212: Grant Staggered Back a Step

Grant staggered back a step. "Explain yourself."

"Not clear enough?" Connor adjusted his cufflinks. "You thought you'd covered your tracks, but Clara saw right through you."

Grant's pupils constricted violently as he grabbed Connor's collar. "What did you do to her?!"

"Pathetic." Connor smirked. "A man who can't even figure out why she left has no right to question me."

"Stop playing games!"

Connor shoved him away, smoothing his sleeves. "Look at you—more pitiful than a stray mutt."

Mason stepped between them. "Enough! Must you destroy a decade of friendship?"

"Friends?" Grant scoffed.

"Hardly." Connor echoed coldly.

Mason exhaled sharply.

Grant jabbed a finger at Connor's face. "Stay away from Clara, or—"

"Or what?" Connor arched an eyebrow.

"Don't make me end this."

Connor chuckled darkly. "Empty threats won't work. If it's not me, it'll be someone else. But one thing remains unchanged—"

He leaned in, each word a dagger. "Clara will never forgive you."

"Do yourself a favor and let go. Unless..."

The unspoken warning hung in the air as Connor turned to leave. He clapped Mason's shoulder. "Keep him in check. We've had enough drama tonight."

His silhouette dissolved into the darkness.

Mason studied Grant's frozen form with a quiet sigh.

If only...

"Grant..."

"Come on." Mason hooked an arm around him. "Let's get you home."

"Why won't she come back this time?" Grant's voice cracked. "No matter how badly I messed up before, she always forgave me..."

His glassy eyes mirrored a lost child's.

Mason hesitated. "...A caged bird stays not because it can't escape, but because it chooses to."

"And now?"

"When the heart dies, no cage can hold it."

So she'd spread her wings—never looking back.

"Dead heart..."

The second time he'd heard those words.

The first was from Clara herself.

"I'll change," Grant rasped.

Mason swallowed hard. "...Some mistakes go beyond apologies."

"What then? Give her my life?!"

Mason recognized the drunken despair.

The sober Grant would bleed before showing weakness.

"Rest first. We'll talk tomorrow—"

Grant wrenched free, stumbling toward the apartment entrance.

"Grant! Where are you going?"