°Amy’s POV°
The sound of my own heartbeat was so loud. My hands trembled as I clutched the sheets around me, my bare toes curling against the carpet. I shot up from the bed so fast the mattress bounced behind me.
He stood there, only a few steps away, the muscles in his jaw tightening. His fingers dragged slowly through his messy hair, the way he always did when he didn’t know what to say.
“Tell me it’s not true…” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it scraped my throat raw. I could feel the words leaving me like a plea, a cry I wasn’t ready to make. My world wasn’t just spinning—it was collapsing in tight, dizzy circles around me.
He looked up at me, lips parting like he had something—anything—to offer me. “Listen, Amy…”
But nothing followed.
That was it. No explanation. No den
