TIARA MCKENZIES' POINT OF VIEW
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no weight pressing down on my chest. No restless overthinking. No sharp pang of guilt clawing at my ribs.
Just warmth.
I had been so deep in sleep that I hadn't even felt Eli move me to the bed. The exhaustion had swallowed me whole, and now, waking up, I found his arms wrapped around me, his steady breathing syncing with mine as we lay in bed. The faint glow of the early morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden hues across the sheets. His warmth seeped into my skin, grounding me in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time.
I blinked slowly, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand rested lightly against my waist as if afraid I’d slip away if he let go. His grip was secure but gentle, as if holding on too tightly might shatter whatever fragile peace we had found in the quiet.
I listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart against my ear,
