The house was wrapped in the soft hush of night. The twins were asleep, their gentle breathing filling the quiet of their rooms, and the lights in the main hall had been dimmed. It was the kind of stillness Isabelle usually welcomed — but tonight, it felt heavy.
The weight of the day — and everything it had stirred up — pressed against her.
She stood on the balcony, arms wrapped around herself against the cool night air. The city stretched out below, lights flickering like stars, but her mind was far away. Stuck on the warmth of his hands at her waist. The steady way he’d caught her. The way she’d wanted — just for a second — not to pull away.
It was dangerous, how easy it had been to slip back into the memory of them. Even more dangerous how much she still felt it.
The night air brush
