Stella:
The morning sun bled through my bedroom window, painting golden streaks across the ceiling. For once, I didn’t wake up feeling like a corpse dragged back to life. My body was sore, sure, but the weight on my chest felt lighter—less suffocating.
I stretched, my muscles aching from both exhaustion and a questionable amount of wine consumption the night before. My ankle throbbed in protest the moment I shifted. With a small huff of pain, I rolled my foot in slow circles, willing away the stiffness.
Last night came back in hazy flashes—Tristan carrying me home, his careful hands tending to my injury, the warmth of his body next to mine as he got me drunk enough to spill more than I should have.
My fingers instinctively found my chest, pressing lightly over my heart. I had stopped m
