The night passed quietly as though the world itself had decided to give Vivienne a brief rest from everything that had happened. For the first time in what felt like forever, she slept in a bed that was warm, soft and safe. The blankets were thick and clean, carrying the faint scent of fresh linen, wood smoke, and a scent she recognized so well, Oliver.His scent lingered everywhere. It was on the pillow beneath her head. It clung to the blankets wrapped around her body. It had settled into the mattress itself, the way a person's presence settles into a place over years of living in it. It should have bothered her, should have made her uneasy to be surrounded by so much of him, yet instead it made her feel strangely calm. She hated admitting it, even in the privacy of her own thoughts. She pulled the blanket up closer and stared at the ceiling and tried very hard not to think about why it was comforting, which meant she thought about almost nothing else.Every time she closed her eye
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