The morning sun poured into the room, warm and insistent, stirring Kathy from her tangled dreams. She blinked against the brightness, squinting as she reached out, fingers brushing the cool surface of her phone on the nightstand. 8:00 a.m.—still early, but impossible to sleep any longer with the golden light streaming across the bed. As she attempted to sit up, a dull ache radiated along her spine, a reminder of the wildness she and Max had shared the night before. She pressed her palm to her cheek, feeling the heat of her own blush, and let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh.
Just then, she sensed Anthony stirring beside her. He shifted beneath the covers, his movements gentle yet searching, as if he too was waking from a world half-shared, half-private. Kathy wondered if he remembered every
