Amelia.
The penthouse felt too quiet without Nathaniel in it.
I sat curled up at the edge of the massive couch with a blanket wrapped around my legs while soft morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Somewhere in the kitchen, the coffee machine hummed quietly, but even that sound faded beneath the noise inside my own head.
Nathaniel had left nearly two hours ago.
Before leaving, he had stood near the entrance adjusting the cufflinks of his dark suit while giving me one last calm look.
“Think about my offer,” he had said.
Then he left.
No pressure.
No manipulation.
No desperate attempt to convince me.
That made the decision even harder somehow.
I stared blankly at the television without really paying attention to whatever was playing. My thoughts kept circling
