The hours passed, but time felt still.
Amelia sat curled up on her couch, wrapped in a blanket she didn’t remember pulling over herself. The morning light had faded into a dull gray afternoon, and her apartment was cloaked in a hush that felt more suffocating than soothing.
Her lips still tingled from the kiss.
Brad had left hours ago, but he hadn’t really gone. Not from her mind. Not from the swirling thoughts she couldn’t slow down.
She had kissed him.
And for a second—for a long, dangerous second—she had wanted to believe that he was enough.
The sound of her doorbell startled her. She blinked, glanced at the clock, and stood slowly. Her body felt like it had moved through a storm. Her emotions had.
When she opened the door, Claire was standing there holding two paper cups of coff
