I went to work later that day with a bruised hand and a raging headache, but my body was the only thing that showed up. My mind was trapped somewhere else—circling, spiraling, drowning. I moved from one meeting to another like a ghost in my own life, responding on instinct, signing papers I barely saw. And when I finally had the room to myself, I just sat there and stared into nothing.
I didn’t even know what I was trying not to think about.
Because every road led back to her.
Avril.
The need hit me like a sickness. I needed her in my arms—desperately. Not for comfort. Not even for forgiveness. Just to prove she was real. To feel her breathing. To confirm that the world hadn’t lied to me again. The idea of her existing somewhere beyond my reach clawed at my chest until it physically hu
