Aurora’s POV
I know he’s going to leave before he even stands.
There’s a shift in the room, a quiet pulling back, like the air itself is bracing for loss. The bond tightens, uneasy, warning me seconds before Zayne moves.
He thinks I’m asleep.
I feel him withdraw first, carefully easing his hand from mine, as if touching me for too long might hurt me. As if he might hurt me.
The thought makes my chest ache.
I keep my eyes closed as he rises slowly from the chair beside my bed. His movements are stiff, controlled, like every step costs him something.
I can hear the faint hitch in his breathing, the way he pauses before straightening, like the weight of everything he’s done is finally pressing down on him.
I smell it again. The paper. Ink. Old magic. Divorce.
My heart twists painful
