The morning light cut across the kitchen, sharp, white, and unforgiving, and I hated that it made everything so obvious. Ryan was already there, leaning against the counter, coffee in hand, staring at me like he owned the day before it had even started.
“Morning,” he said casually, but his tone carried an edge I couldn’t ignore.
“Morning,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze as I poured cereal into a bowl, trying to act like it was just another ordinary day.
“It’s not ordinary,” he said, stepping closer, enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off him, though we kept a polite distance. “You know it’s not.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to laugh, but it came out tight. “You really like saying that, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said, smiling faintly. “Because it’s true. Every second you’re here, it’s
