The next morning, I woke to the smell of something wonderful drifting into the room. My eyes fluttered open slowly, the remnants of fever still clinging to me, but the worst of it had passed.
The room was quiet, save for the soft clink of dishes from downstairs. For a moment, I let myself drift back into the comforting haze of sleep, but then the memory of last night hit me like a wave. Cross had stayed. He hadn’t left, and I had clung to him, allowing him to care for me in ways I hadn’t wanted but needed.
The guilt of betraying Vincent flooded back. My chest tightened as I sat up, pulling the covers closer to my body. The coldness I felt in my heart hadn’t gone away, and I needed to push through this... to find a way to make things right.
But before I could gather my thoughts, the doo
