Sargis's pov
The room was dim. The curtains were drawn tight against the moonlight, and the only glow came from my phone screen and the half-empty bottle of bourbon in front of me.
I sat on the edge of the guest bed like a ghost, half-dressed and half-sane. My fingers trembled as I brought the glass to my lips again.
And yet... I still couldn't put the phone down as my wallpaper stared back at me.
Narine.
Her face was tucked against the pillow, and her lashes fanned out on her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and her Lips were slightly parted.
I hadn't changed it. I couldn't.
I stared at her like she was a phantom I'd conjured in my grief. My chest ached. God, it ached.
She hadn't spent a single dime.
Not the money I'd transferred to her account.
Not once had she entered the house I
