Caleb POVI was still dressed when her first message came through. I'd been sitting on the terrace for a few hours, a glass of whiskey untouched on the table beside me as my phone lit up on the table.Are you awake?I grabbed it so fast I nearly sent the whiskey off the edge, fumbling it upright with my elbow before snatching the phone up.Yes, I typed back, and sat very still after that, heart going faster than it had any right to over three letters.The response took a moment. I can't sleep.I exhaled through my nose, slow and deliberate, and set the phone down carefully on my knee. She was lying in her house right now — her house, her bed, her space — and she couldn't sleep, and the person she'd reached for was me. I knew better than to make too much of it. I know, I typed. Neither can I.I watched the three dots appear, disappear, appear again. Bella typing and deleting, which I could picture precisely — that small furrow between her brows, both hands on the phone the way she held
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