Maeve’s POV
I woke up already tense.
Not from fear. Not from noise. From awareness.
The kind that sits low in your body and refuses to let you stretch without remembering everything you did the night before. Everything you almost did. Everything you stopped.
I stayed still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening for movement that wasn’t mine.
He was still here.
Not in my bed. Not touching me. Just present in the house, like a thought that wouldn’t leave no matter how hard you pushed it aside.
That shouldn’t have felt intimate.
It did.
I rolled onto my side and dragged a hand down my face, exhaling hard. My mouth still remembered him. That was the problem. That was always the problem with things you didn’t finish...they stayed unfinished inside you.
I got up, pulled on jea
