Callie
The house was quiet. Mia had gone to sleep early.
I sat curled on the couch, knees tucked in, staring at the last bit of candlelight flickering on the table. The wax was almost gone. My tea had gone cold hours ago, but I couldn’t move. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying our fight, his words, the way he’d looked right before he kissed me. It should have made me feel better, but it didn’t.
The silence between us had stretched for hours, and now it felt like something I was drowning in. I’d tried to read, to tidy up, to distract myself—but every move brought me back to him, to that moment, to us.
Footsteps came from the hall. I didn’t need to look to know it was him.
Grayson stood in the doorway, and watched me for a moment.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Didn’t try.”
