The next morning felt like waking up in someone else’s life. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, hitting the rumpled sheets where Victor’s side used to be empty even when he was here. Now it was just Ethan beside me, breathing slow and deep, one arm thrown over my waist like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.I watched him sleep for a long time, tracing the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his lashes fanned dark against his cheeks. He looked younger when he was like this—peaceful, almost innocent. But the shadows under his eyes told the truth. We hadn’t slept much. Not really.He stirred, blinked awake, found me watching him. A small, tired smile curved his mouth.“Morning,” he murmured, voice gravelly from crying and not enough rest.“Morning.” I brushed my fingers through his hair. “You okay?”He exhaled, long and shaky. “No. But I’m here. With you. That’s something.”I leaned in, kissed him soft—lips barely touching, more breath than anything. He kissed me back
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