The morning sun spilled into Isabelle’s room, soft and golden and entirely too cruel.
She groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow, but the light was relentless, dragging her toward consciousness she didn’t want.
Her head throbbed faintly—not a full hangover, but enough to make everything feel heavier, slower.
Her body ached with exhaustion.
Her heart…
Her heart hurt in a way she didn’t dare examine too closely.
I still love you.
The memory slammed into her chest with a vicious force the second her eyes fluttered open.
No mercy.
No escape.
God.
She had said it.
She had actually said it.
And he had heard every word.
Panic twisted in her gut. She shoved the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet hitting the floor with a quiet thud.
May
