Audrey’s pov
For a few blissful seconds when I woke up the next morning, as the sun bled through the heavy velvet curtains, I forgot. I forgot all the events of the previous night.
I dressed in a baby-pink sundress, pulling my hair back into a loose bun. I felt grounded until I pushed open the double doors to the sitting room.
Dante was there, seated on the couch with a cup of espresso in his hand. He looked like a man who owned the world, or at least a major part of it.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“I thought I made myself clear,” I said, not stepping further into the room. “The car should be here for you. You need to leave, Dante.”
He set the cup down with a deliberate click. “I didn’t sleep well, Audrey. I spent most of the night thinking. About us. About the last three years.”
I let
