Michelle woke to silence.
For a moment, she lay still, her eyes closed, letting the unfamiliar calm settle over her.
Then reality rushed in.
Warmth at her back. A steady, living presence behind her. An arm draped loosely over her waist, heavy and protective even in sleep.
Jeremiah Carter.
Her chest tightened.
Carefully, so carefully, Michelle shifted, lifting his arm just enough to slip free. He stirred, muttered something unintelligible, but didn’t wake. She paused, watching his face in the pale morning light filtering through the window.
He looked peaceful. Younger. Unburdened.
That, more than anything, made her heart ache.
She gathered the discarded sweater from the floor and pulled it on, the fabric still faintly scented with him. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She avoided look
