Damon’s POV
The sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light onto the hardwood floor. I stretched on the couch, my leg aching just enough to remind me of the uphill battle I was still fighting.
My house felt too quiet, unnaturally so after the conversation with Winter last night. Her voice had been laced with tension, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more she wasn’t saying.
I needed a distraction, something to clear my head. Grabbing my crutches, I made my way to the kitchen, where the coffee maker hummed faintly. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could manage coffee.
As I waited for the brew, my thoughts wandered back to Winter. She’d sent me a message last night, saying she wants to talk. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I hoped it wasn’t more bad news. Part
