APRIL
We broke apart slowly, like neither of us really wanted to. His arms loosened around me, but his touch lingered, one hand rising to gently rest on my shoulder.
"Lay down," he murmured, brushing a thumb over my collarbone. "Sleep. You must be tired."
I wrinkled my nose and pouted. "No more sleeping. I'm tired of sleeping."
That earned me a soft laugh. Not his usual sharp, amused kind—but the kind that cracked through exhaustion and sadness. The kind I hadn't realized I missed so much until I heard it again.
God, I missed that laugh.
He looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes, then his features shifted. The smile faded. The weight of something unspoken settled between us.
"Okay," he said gently. "Then sit with me. I need to tell you something... importa
