SIMONE'S POV
I woke to cold sheets and the bitter taste of my stupidity.
The space beside me was empty, the pillows unruffled, as if Nicholas had never been there at all.
But the remaining scent of his cologne on the silk pillowcase and the book of Italian poetry on the nightstand told a different story.
'I'm in love with you, Simone.'
His words echoed in my head like a curse, making my chest tight with something I refused to name.
I pressed my face into the pillow, breathing in that familiar scent and hating myself for the way it made my pulse quicken.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Offering myself to him like some lovesick fool, telling him I wanted to be his complication.
The fever had damaged more than just my body, it had fried whatever self-preservati
