STELLA
Monday.
The morning light filtered through the soft, blush-colored curtains in my bedroom, its warmth brushing against my face like an unwelcome guest. I groaned, rolling over to bury myself deeper into the covers, but the weight of responsibility pulled me back to reality. My alarm hadn’t gone off yet, but I was already awake, tangled in thoughts of Tristan.
With a resigned sigh, I threw the duvet off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The cold hardwood floor was a stark contrast to the plush softness of the bed, jolting me further awake. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I reached for it, squinting at the screen. It was my secretary, Evelyn.
“Good morning, Evelyn,” I greeted, trying to inject some cheerfulness into my voice as I rubbed my temple.
“Good morning,
