MACEY
After that sham of a lunch, I went home feeling like I’d been hit by a slow, invisible storm. My head was buzzing, my chest tight, and my emotions—God—somewhere between fury and heartbreak. I kicked off my shoes the second I stepped inside and dropped my purse onto the couch. The apartment felt unusually quiet, too still for my restless mind.
The first thing I did when I got home was grab my phone. My thumb hovered over Damien’s name longer than I wanted to admit, like calling him would be admitting something... something bad. But I pressed it anyway.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Hi, Damien,” I said softly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. My voice came out smaller, weaker.
“Hey.” His voice was low, smooth, and familiar, like warm smoke curling around my che
