ARIA'S POV
Dante leaves me alone with my thoughts, until the warmth he left behind fades just enough for memory to rush back in.
I sit on the edge of the bed long after he’s gone, staring at my hands like they belong to someone else.
I’ve loved you for years. The words replay, over and over, until they start to feel dangerous. Because loving him feels like betrayal. Not of Dante, but of everyone else.
I press my palms to my face and breathe out slowly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to survive. Endure. Escape. Not feel.
A soft knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
Dante steps inside, careful, like he’s entering a space he’s not sure he’s allowed to occupy yet.
“You didn’t eat,” he says.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t been hun
