Sarah's POV
Adrian remained seated on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on my shoulder. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin silk of my nightgown, a small anchor in the storm that had just passed. For several long minutes, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the distant tick of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway and the faint rustle of curtains as a breeze slipped through a crack in the heavy drapes. I could feel his gaze on me, steady, searching, burdened.
“Thank you,” I whispered again, my voice cracking like dry leaves. It was barely audible, but I needed to say it. The words felt fragile, as if speaking them too loudly might shatter this unexpected gentleness.
Adrian’s thumb brushed lightly over my collarbone, a slow, absentminded stroke. “You don
