“Who would’ve thought… you wouldn’t let me leave, and then… then you…” Emma’s voice faltered, and she lowered her head in apparent distress, pulling the blanket up to hide her face.
Justin’s expression darkened as he frowned, struggling to piece together fragments of the previous night. It wasn’t Emily helping him change—it was Emma?
The realization gnawed at him, filling him with inexplicable irritation. Emma’s soft sobs broke the silence, the sound grating on his nerves.
Why did he feel annoyed? This was Emma, the woman who had saved his life, the woman he had always claimed to love. Yet, he couldn’t recall a single moment from last night. His head throbbed, and the remnants of his hangover clouded his mind.
Emma peeked out from beneath the blanket, her fingers pulling it aside just enough to expose the bloodstain on the white sheets.
“Justin, last night… it hurt so much.” Her tearful eyes shimmered, red and swollen. A small patch of the blanket beneath her face was damp with
