OLIVIA’S POV
The kitchen was silent except for the sound of my shallow breaths. My body remained sprawled on the cold granite countertop, damp with sweat and stained by what had just transpired. The stillness pressed against my chest, but I didn’t move. Not yet.
Damon’s voice came from somewhere in the haze. “Damn it, Olivia…” he muttered under his breath, low and gravelly. His tone was laced with regret, his words spiraling into curses as he stepped away from me. “I… I didn’t mean to—”
He was pacing now, his hands raking through his hair as though he could pull the guilt straight out of his skull. “I shouldn’t have done that… shouldn’t have let myself…” His voice trailed off into something barely audible.
I stayed still, staring up at the ceiling. The chandelier above swayed faintly,
