Sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains, casting warm lines across the bed, across their skin.
Isabelle stirred, her lashes fluttering as she blinked into the golden hush of morning.
For a split second, she forgot.
Forgot where she was.
What she’d done.
Until she shifted.
And felt the weight of his arm draped across her waist.
Her breath caught.
She turned her head slowly.
Sebastian lay beside her, bare-chested, his face softened in sleep, his breathing deep and steady. The covers were tangled around their legs. His hand was still resting on her skin—like even in sleep, he didn’t want to let her go.
It should’ve felt safe.
Instead, it felt dangerous.
Not just because of what they’d done, but because of how it made her feel.
Like nothing had changed.
Like the years
