Sloane's POV.
I woke up because the bed felt too big.
The heavy, comforting heat of Roman’s body was gone. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the expensive navy blue sheets, but they were already cool. The early morning light was beginning to crawl through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, turning the room a soft, hazy grey.
I sat up, my shoulder giving a sharp, rhythmic throb that reminded me I was still a long way from being okay. I looked at the black cashmere sweater I was still wearing...Roman’s sweater. It still smelled like him. Like woodsmoke and that expensive, spicy cologne that seemed to sink into my skin.
"Roman?" I called out. My voice was thick with sleep, a low rasp that barely carried across the room.
No answer.
I stood up, my legs feeling a b
