Amara’s POV
The rain outside hadn’t let up, the heavy droplets tapping against the roof of the car as if mirroring the chaos within me. My breathing was uneven, my heart racing as I sat there, wrapped in the warmth of Caden’s arms.
He didn’t move, his grip firm yet comforting, as though he was afraid I’d slip away if he let go. His forehead rested against mine, and I could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in so long.
"Amara," he whispered my name like it was sacred, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between us.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. The pain in them was unmistakable—raw, unfiltered, and completely vulnerable. It wasn’t just jealousy or anger. It was deeper than that.
