IVY I woke up to the soft sound of Noah’s breathing beside me. The room was still dark, the clock on the nightstand glowing 3:17 a.m. For a moment I just lay there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. His arm was wrapped around my waist, warm and protective. In the quiet of the night, everything felt safe. But my throat was dry, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him, and tiptoed downstairs for a glass of water. The house was silent except for the distant sound of waves outside. I poured myself some water from the kitchen and stood by the window, staring at the dark ocean. The cool glass felt good against my palm. I took a slow sip, letting the water ease the dryness in my throat. But as I turned to go back upstairs, I saw a small light coming from the living room. Sarah was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at nothing. “Hey,” I said softly, walking over. “Can’t sleep either?” Sarah
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