Celestine's POV
The morning light cuts clean across the glass wall, too bright for how early it is.
I sit at my vanity, towel twisted over my hair, the smell of steam and soap still clinging to my skin.
I turn the bottle of Plan B pills over once, then drop it into the trash.
Problem contained. Or replaced, depending on how you look at it.
I study my reflection. My lips curve into a small, deliberate smile. I look calm, composed, victorious. The kind of woman who gets what she wants—because I am. Last night fixed it. He reached for me again, and I made sure he didn’t pull away.
Control restored.
I check the time. Kaelen’s not here. His side of the bed is empty, sheets already cool.
I type, Where are you? I’m not done with you yet.
A short pause, then his reply lights the screen.
