Sebastian didn’t sleep.
Not for a second.
He sat hunched on the edge of his bed, elbows braced against his knees, staring into the dark like it held the answer to a question he didn’t know how to ask.
The house around him was still, but his body was a live wire.
Tense.
Waiting.
Wrecked.
Her voice wouldn’t leave him.
Wouldn’t loosen its grip around his throat.
“I still love you.”
He closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms hard against them, but it didn’t help.
He could still hear it.
Could still feel it—her breath against his mouth, her hands fisted in his shirt, her body trembling in his arms.
He had spent months—years—telling himself he was imagining it.
That the looks, the touches, the stolen glances were all wishful thinking.
That he was chasing a ghost.
That he
