That night, sleep didn’t come easily.
I lay on my side, staring at the faint glow of Christmas lights filtering in from the hallway, my thoughts looping back to Nathan’s arms around me on the porch. The memory lingered in my body—in the steady warmth of his chest at my back, in the way I’d leaned into him without thinking.
That was what frightened me most.
I hadn’t decided to fall.
It was happening quietly, in the spaces between conversations, in moments I didn’t guard carefully enough.
I turned onto my back and exhaled slowly.
It’s just the holidays, I told myself. A pause. A borrowed calm.
Still, the question pressed in, unrelenting.
What happens when this ends?
My phone vibrated on the bedside table.
Addie.
I hesitated before answering, as if I already knew what she was going
