Morning came too soon. I woke to the absence of Darius as usual. You never tell when he arrives and when he leaves.
The first thing I felt was the ache—not of pain, but of presence. My body remembered before my mind caught up. The scent of last night still clung to the sheets: smoke, sweat, and the faint trace of Darius’s cologne, like an unfinished sentence whispered against my skin.
When I opened my eyes, the room was hollow. The candles had burned to puddles of wax; the curtains breathed gently with the wind. For a moment, I didn’t move. The silence pressed against me like a body of its own.
James’s face flickered through my mind, his eyes when he saw me. That look. I could still feel it, like a ghost watching from the doorway. A part of me wanted to chase him, to explain something I
