CLAIRE
Breakfast tasted better than it had any right to after the last week. The diner smelled like coffee and fried eggs, and the plates arrived so fast it felt like the place ran on habit instead of charm. Aiden sat across from me with his fork halfway to his mouth, watching me instead of eating. The hair at his temple curled slightly from the shower he had taken before we left, and faint shadows rested under his eyes from lack of sleep. His pancakes disappeared at a steady pace once he finally started eating. The world outside the window moved without concern for our scandal or our private decisions, and for a few minutes I let myself watch it.
The server refilled my coffee. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and tried to remember the last morning that had felt normal. None
