The night after the dinner-that-never-happened was a hollow one. My apartment smelled faintly of roses from the gift box Valen’s driver had left, but the perfume cloyed in my chest instead of soothing me. His note, those eight words, “I had to choose between love and loyalty tonight” sat folded on the coffee table like a splinter in my mind.
Love, Loyalty. Both words sounded like choices that belonged to him, never me.
I woke late the next morning, body heavy with exhaustion that felt more emotional than physical. For the first time in weeks, the sheets beside me were cold. No Valen slipping in at dawn. No shadow curling against mine. Only silence.
I made coffee, drank it standing at the window, eyes fixed on the street below. That was when the knock came.
Three deliberate taps. Too hu
