I wake up to an empty bed.
For a second, I think maybe Dante just slipped into the bathroom or the kitchen for coffee, but the sheets beside me are cold. Tidy. Like he never slept here at all.
But there’s a bouquet of white roses on the bedside table. Elegant, tight-budded. Their scent is soft, not too loud. Just... present.
"You’ve got a new admirer," Kira teases from the back of my mind. "Should I start picking out wedding colors?"
I roll my eyes and sit up slowly, pushing the comforter off my legs. The room is silent, and I feel like a ghost inside it.
“He’s sweet,” I murmur, reaching out to touch the petal of one rose. “But he’s not…”
"Not him." Kira finishes for me, and I hate how right she sounds. "You know he’s not the one, Tamsin."
I don't answer. Not because I disagree, but
