I woke up alone, and my stomach dropped straight through the floor.
The couch cushions beside me were cold. Empty. Like maybe I'd imagined the whole thing, like maybe last night was just another cruel dream my brain had conjured up to torture me. I sat up too fast, my heart pounding in my ears, scanning the room for any sign of him.
The guest room door was open. My door. The one I'd been sleeping in for weeks, the one that was supposed to be temporary. Sunlight streamed through it, warm and golden, and I could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. Pans clattering. Water running. The coffee maker gurgling to life.
I forced myself to breathe. He's just in the kitchen. He didn't run. He didn't disappear.
But what if he regretted it? What if the morning light had brought clarity and he'd re
