ELENA
I push through the morning dizziness as I get out of bed the next morning, waddling across the hallway before poking my head through the corner into the living room to see if Drake is gone and I hope he has.
The chair is vacant, just as it had been a few minutes before he invaded my home. The couch looks smooth—too smooth to appear like anyone had used it to sleep.
If his scent didn’t permeate every sense of my body right now, I would have assumed that I had hallucinated the night before.
But why did he come here last night and even sleep on the couch, why come to his burdens or was it really the tea he came for? I move closer to the couch, peering at the cup to see it just as I left it.
I caress the arm of the chair and grab the cloth I had dropped on him last night. A flicke
