(Julia’s POV)
Morning came like it was forced through a filter—too bright, too loud, and entirely unwelcome.
I hadn’t slept. Not really. I must’ve drifted at some point, but it didn’t feel like rest. My limbs were heavy with that cotton-thick fatigue that made even blinking feel like work.
The code was still in the drawer.
And Nathan was still in the kitchen.
I heard him before I saw him—mug clinking, water running, the faint thud of cabinet doors. Normal sounds. Domestic ones. They felt very irritating today.
I pulled on a sweater over my camisole, tugged my hair into something that could pass for neat, and walked out without a word. No makeup. No earrings. Just my phone, my keys, and a head full of static.
The smell of coffee reached me first—warm, familiar, but milder than usual.
