.
.
I woke up to the sound of rain tapping the windows like it had something to say.
Soft. Persistent. Familiar.
The room was dim. Washed in gray light, with the fireplace long dead and the air cooled by absence.
Aiden wasn't in bed. But I could feel him everywhere.
On my skin, in my lungs, in the soreness of my body and the echo of his name in places I didn't want to admit still ache for him. I pulled the sheets tighter around me and sat up slowly. The duvet smelled like him.
My heart clenched.
I had made a thousand exits in my mind. Not one of them started with waking up in his bed again.
I found him in the kitchen. Barefoot and shirtless as always, with mug in hand. He was watching the rain like it was performing just for him. One arm resting on the counter, head tilted in tha
