Lilian’s POV
The shower was hot, scalding, actually. I’d turned the dial as far to the right as it would go, letting the steam fill the marble enclosure until I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Yet, despite the heat, I was freezing.
It was a deep, marrow-seeping cold that seemed to radiate from the inside out, sitting in my chest like a heavy block of ice wedged beneath my ribs. It made my breath hitch every time I tried to inhale, a constant, shivering reminder that something was wrong.
“Get it together, Jones,” I muttered, leaning my forehead against the wet tile. “You’re just tired. It’s emotional exhaustion, or low iron, or the fact that your fake fiancé is a human furnace who has permanently ruined your internal thermostat.”
I turned the water off and stepped out, imm
