Amelia woke to emptiness: the bed beside her cold, silent. She blinked against the morning light and realized Enzo was gone. She felt a dull ache—relief and longing swirling in her veins together.
The house was peaceful. Too peaceful. She dressed in jeans and an oversized shirt, nothing revealing. No flash, no invitation. She tugged her hair into a messy ponytail and headed downstairs.
Valenie was already there, flipping pancakes with a grin.
“Morning, sleepy head,” she sang.
“Morning.” Amelia sank onto the stool, easing into normalcy. She eyed the pancakes. “You hungry?”
“Always.” Valenie dished out a stack. “I’m thinking we should have a girls’ night this weekend—a spa day. Nothing wild.”
Amelia swallowed. “Sounds nice.”
Valenie hummed with satisfaction. “And you’re doing okay?”
