Soft morning light seeps through our cabin's wooden walls, but the golden rays do little to ease the restlessness swirling in my chest. I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, staring out at the endless ocean beyond the window. The scene is peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions inside me.
Yesterday’s encounter with Ethan at the restaurant keeps replaying in my mind. His smug expression, his sharp words, and the way he tried to unravel everything Jack and I have been building together—it’s all so vivid, like a film stuck on repeat.
I glance at the other side of the bed, now empty but rumpled from where Jack had slept earlier. He woke up before me, muttering something about needing fresh air, and I haven’t seen him since. That in itself
