Clarissa’s POVMy chest felt tight as my eyes lingered on the faint smear of lipstick pressed into Bruce’s pillow.“Bruce,” I whispered, struggling to breathe through the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “What’s that… on your pillow?”He hesitated for half a second. I saw it—the flicker in his gaze, the subtle shift in his posture. But then, he laughed. A dry, practiced sound.“That?” He rubbed at the pillow like it meant nothing. “That’s yours, babe. Didn’t you kiss me this morning before you left? You must’ve forgotten.”I blinked, trying to sift through the fog in my head. My mind, trapped in the loop of Sophia’s blue lips and tiny cold fingers, couldn’t grasp simple memories. Did I kiss him this morning? Did I? I couldn’t remember.“I… I can’t recall.”Bruce reached for me gently, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Clarissa, you’re exhausted. Come here.”I didn’t resist when he pulled me onto the bed beside him. His heartbeat drummed steadily against my ear as
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