Sheila’s POV
Morning comes too soon.
The alarm blares like it is mocking me, sharp and bright in a room that still smells faintly of sweat and shame. The sound drills through the quiet, dragging me out of whatever half-sleep I had fallen into.
I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, my body heavy and uncooperative. My skin feels too tight, too aware, like I am made of nerves now. Every inch of me remembers his touch. The warmth of it. The weight. The way it set something loose inside me that I still cannot name.
I turn onto my side, eyes half-open, watching the thin light crawl across the floor. The sheets twist around my legs, clinging to me like a reminder I do not want. When I finally sit up, I untangle myself, drop my feet to the cold floor, and try to tell myself I am fi
