Kelly’s POV
I sat on the edge of the bed and told myself, for the third time that night, that this trip was just about work.
But the words sounded like a lie even inside my own head. The room was quiet except for the muted hum of traffic far below the window and the faint ticking of the clock on the bedside table.
The room was too large for one person to occupy without feeling slightly out of place. My suitcase sat half-open on the chair, clothes folded with a care that felt deliberate, almost defensive, as if neatness could keep my thoughts in line.
Nothing was meant to happen, that had been the rule I gave myself from the start, while I was preparing for the trip.
And yet my mind kept circling back to the plane. The sudden dip, the sharp intake of breath I hadn’t managed to hide
