NATALIE
I felt him move before I saw him.
The subtle change in the air, the shift in space, the sound of his steps. Quiet, deliberate, measured.
Edwin always walked like that—no rush, no uncertainty. His movements held a certain kind of weight, as if he knew every step, every breath, would leave a mark.
I didn’t turn. I couldn’t.
I kept my eyes fixed on the screen in front of me, though I hadn’t typed a single word in ages.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, useless. Decorative.
I was avoiding looking at him, but in reality, I was avoiding the way my heart wanted to leap at the mere thought of him.
He moved closer. I could feel it.
Not threatening, not forceful. Just slow. Measured. Like he was giving me time to breathe. Time to run, if I wanted to. But I didn’t move. Not e
