HANNAH’S POV: THE NEXT MORNING. I woke up the next morning extremely tired, hoping it was all a bad dream. But it wasn’t, and the memories of last night flashed through my mind, making me sniffled. I laid still, unmoving, I just wanted to lay there and never move. I was afraid that if I shifted even slightly, everything would come crashing back again. I turned my head slowly packing my hair up in a high ponytail. He was already up standing near the window shirtless, the morning light outlining his sculpted back. His phone was in his hand, and from the way his brows were pulled tightly, he was just now remembering reality. He hadn’t looked at me properly last night. I doubt he could see much through the haze of alcohol and blind expectations. He thought I was Janet. Even while he touched me, he whispered her name. I curled my knees to my chest. “What in the world?” His loud deep voice echoed through the room making me jump startled. He turned sharply, his eyes landing on me. Re
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