تسجيل الدخولMaxwell POVClaire’s words followed me long after her car disappeared from view, echoing in my head with a cruel persistence I couldn’t silence. Please. Move on. They weren’t shouted, weren’t dramatic, yet they cut deeper than anything she could have said in anger. I stood there like an idiot, hands at my sides, staring at the empty stretch of road where she’d been moments ago, feeling as though something vital had been ripped out of my chest and left bleeding in the open.I had known it was coming. Or at least, I told myself I had. When she started ignoring my messages, replying days later with clipped, polite responses, something in me had already begun to sink. Claire was many things, but careless wasn’t one of them. Her silence wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate, controlled, and that made it hurt more. Every unread message felt like a door quietly locking, one after the other.I tried to be reasonable. I told myself she was busy. Luke, work, wedding preparations—there were a tho
Amelia POVFive days.The number followed me everywhere, like a whisper I couldn’t escape. Five days until I would walk down an aisle, five days until I would say I do, five days until I would become Ethan’s wife. The word wife should have felt grounding, solid, like an anchor. Instead, it made my stomach flutter with a nervous energy I couldn’t quite name.What was I thinking?The question echoed in my mind as I stood in front of the mirror that morning, toothbrush paused mid-air, eyes fixed on my own reflection. I looked the same—same tired eyes, same faint crease between my brows—but something inside me felt unsettled, as though I’d shifted the ground beneath my own feet and now didn’t trust it to hold.Moving the wedding up had felt right in the moment. Necessary, even. A decision born out of urgency and resolve, out of fear and defiance tangled together so tightly I couldn’t separate them. I had told myself it was strength. A declaration. Proof that I knew what I wanted.Now, wit
Ethan POVThe trip was Claire’s idea.That alone should’ve told me how much it meant.As the plane touched down and the familiar city lights spread beneath us, a quiet sense of contentment settled in my chest. I hadn’t realized how much tension I’d been carrying until it eased, just a little, the moment I looked over at her and saw that soft, tentative smile she reserved for moments when she was trying—really trying.She had planned everything. The location. The schedule. Even the little details she knew I liked but rarely mentioned. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was thoughtful, deliberate. Personal.And to me, that meant more than any grand gesture ever could.I’d been angry before the trip. Not the explosive kind—Claire and I hadn’t been that kind of couple in years—but the quiet, simmering kind. The kind that lived in pauses, in half-finished conversations, in the space between us at night. I’d felt her pulling away, even when she was right beside me. Felt the hesitation every time
Amelia povI let myself wake slowly the next morning, the sound of waves slipping through the open balcony doors like a lullaby. For once, my chest didn’t feel tight with anxiety the moment my eyes opened. Instead, there was warmth—Luke’s small body curled against mine and Ethan’s steady presence beside us, his arm draped protectively around both of us.I stayed still, afraid to disturb the fragile peace. Vacations had a way of making everything feel softer, kinder. I knew reality waited for us back home, but here, in this pocket of borrowed calm, I allowed myself to breathe.Ethan stirred first. His eyes met mine, and instead of the guarded look I’d grown used to, there was something gentle there.“Morning,” he murmured.“Morning,” I replied, smiling before I could stop myself.Luke chose that moment to wake, announcing it loudly and dramatically, demanding breakfast and declaring he dreamed of riding dolphins. Ethan laughed—a real laugh, unrestrained—and I realized how long it had b
Amelia POVThe next morning unfolded like every other, painfully ordinary. I moved through the kitchen on autopilot, cracking eggs, flipping pancakes, slicing fruit, pretending routine could stitch together what was unraveling. The smell of coffee filled the air, rich and familiar, and for a brief moment I let myself believe today could be different. That maybe last night had been a crack, not a break.“Breakfast’s ready,” I called softly as I set plates on the table.No answer.I wiped my hands on a towel and walked down the hallway, pausing outside the bedroom. Ethan was already dressed, tugging on his jacket with sharp, hurried movements.“I made your favorite,” I said carefully.He didn’t look at me. “I’m not hungry.”“You barely ate yesterday.”“I’m late,” he replied, voice clipped. He reached for his keys, already halfway out the door.“Ethan,” I tried again, my chest tightening. “Can we talk later?”He hesitated, just for a second, then nodded without meeting my eyes. “We’ll se
Ethan POVI woke with a violent gasp, my body jerking upright as if yanked from death itself. Sweat drenched my skin, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt. For a second, the world didn’t feel real. Darkness pressed in from every corner, thick and suffocating, and I could still see it—still hear it.Sylvester standing across from me.The gun in his hand.The way his eyes had been empty, almost calm, as he raised it.I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t help. The dream replayed anyway. I was back there, frozen in place, watching him pull the trigger without hesitation. The sound of the shot had echoed like thunder, tearing through me. I remembered looking down, seeing blood bloom across my chest, feeling my legs give out. I hit the ground hard, the cold seeping into my bones as life drained from me. I remember thinking, absurdly, that I never even felt the pain.Just silence.Just darkness.“Ethan?”Claire’s voice cut through the memory, soft but sharp with concern. I suc







