POV: Violet
The morning was too bright for how heavy my chest felt.
Sunlight flooded the Harrison dining room, streaming through tall windows that framed the garden like a painting. Arabella had filled the table with every breakfast dish imaginable eggs, fresh fruit, toast, even warm cinnamon rolls that smelled sinful. It should have felt comforting.
It should have felt safe.
But nothing about safety lingered in my bones.
Because I could still feel the phantom weight of Ryan’s arms around me from the night before. I could still hear his voice, deep and raw, begging me to stay. I could still feel the invisible pressure of eyes outside the estate watching, waiting.
And most of all, I could feel the choice pressing against my ribs, threatening to crush me.
If I stayed, I risked draggin
