HER POV
The sharp ding of my phone dragged me out of sleep. Monday mornings were already hell, but this one? This one was about to be worse.
Still half-buried in my sheets, I stretched my hand lazily toward my nightstand, blinking against the bright light of my screen. A single message from Daniel. My Daniel.
“I can’t do this anymore. Don’t text me. Don’t call me. We’re done.”
I sat up immediately, my chest tight. My eyes darted over the words again, hoping I’d misread. But no, the letters stayed the same, brutal in their simplicity.
“Who breaks up with a woman on a Monday morning?” I muttered, tossing my phone onto the bed like it had just burned me. “Not even a decent conversation… just a text.”
Daniel. Tall, neat, always smelling of cedarwood and arrogance. For three years he’d be
