Kaelen's POV
“I need to get some air, not another argument,” I mutter, grabbing my phone and keys before the door shuts behind me.
The air outside is clean, damp with morning fog. I start at a slow pace, letting my legs warm up, my head still heavy from last night. Celestine’s perfume still clings to my shirt.
I should’ve changed.
Her moods swing faster than the moon—angry one moment, affectionate the next. After the gala, she nearly clawed my face off for leaving early, then spent the rest of the night making sure I couldn’t walk straight. The memory pushes through: her laughter, the heat, the way she whispered my name like a challenge. Even drunk, I remember too much.
I run faster, chasing the ache in my legs.
The city’s quiet. A few cars pass, bakery doors opening, vendors callin
