Aria’s POV
By the time I got to the bedroom, Julian was already in bed. The room was pitch black, so dark I had to use my phone's flashlight to navigate without tripping over furniture or banging my injured arm against something.
He was facing the wall, his breathing steady, seemingly asleep. I moved as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him. He'd had a long day, from the hospital stress to the fight with Damien. The last thing he needed was me disturbing what little rest he could get.
I was someone who liked to sleep in every position imaginable, sprawled across the bed like a starfish. But now, with my dislocated arm, I was confined to one side, forced to lie carefully on my back, unable to move freely. The restriction felt claustrophobic, suffocating.
The moment I settled onto
