جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 60

Mia POV The days at Jake’s apartment stretched on like a strange dream I couldn’t quite wake from. The small space became my whole world while my body tried to heal from the accident and my heart tried to make sense of the wreckage Ryder had left in his wake. Jake moved around the apartment with a steady, purposeful energy that never seemed to falter. He was always there when I needed him — adjusting the pillows under my broken leg to keep the swelling down, bringing me water before I even had to ask, changing the dressings on my scrapes with careful, practiced hands that never lingered too long or made me feel uncomfortable. He never pushed for anything. He never demanded explanations or gratitude. He just took care of me in ways that felt foreign after the whirlwind intensity of Ryder’s world. This morning he brought breakfast to the couch where I spent most of my time now — scrambled eggs with cheese the way I liked them, toast with just the right amount of butter, fresh fr

Mia POVThe days at Jake’s apartment started to feel like a different life. The small space, with its worn couch and the faint smell of coffee that never quite left the air, had become my entire world. My broken leg throbbed constantly under the cast, a dull reminder of the car that had thrown me into this new reality. Jake moved around the apartment like he had done this a thousand times before, always one step ahead of what I needed. He brought me water before my throat got dry, adjusted the pillows under my leg without me asking, and changed the dressings on my scrapes with hands that were gentle but efficient. He never made it feel like a burden. He made it feel like the most natural thing in the world.This morning he brought breakfast to the couch where I spent most of my time — scrambled eggs with cheese the way I liked them, toast with just the right amount of butter, fresh fruit cut into small, easy-to-eat pieces, and a cup of tea exactly the way I preferred it. He sat on the

Mia POVThe apartment had started to feel like a safe haven, but the walls were closing in on me. Jake had been nothing but kind, patient, and steady, but the longer I stayed, the more I felt the weight of everything I had left behind. The pain in my leg was a constant throb, a reminder of the car that had thrown me into this new reality. Jake moved around the space with that same reliable energy, bringing me water, adjusting pillows, changing bandages. He fed me, read to me, and kept the outside world at bay. But the quiet was starting to feel too loud.This morning he brought breakfast again, the usual eggs and toast, but his face was tighter than usual. He sat on the coffee table, watching me eat with that careful concern.“You’re healing,” he said. “But you’re still thinking about him. I can see it.”I set the fork down. “It’s hard not to. Everything I knew about him is falling apart. The woman. The phone call. The way he spoke about me like I was a game.”Jake leaned forward, ta

Mia POVThe days at Jake’s apartment started to feel like a cage I had walked into willingly. The small space, once a safe haven, now felt too quiet, too controlled. Jake moved around with that same steady energy, bringing me meals, changing bandages, reading to me when the pain kept me awake. But something in his kindness had started to feel off. Too perfect. Too calculated. I pushed the thought away, blaming the pain meds and the concussion for making me paranoid.This morning he brought breakfast again, the usual eggs and toast, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He sat on the coffee table, watching me eat with that careful concern that had once felt comforting.“You’re healing well,” he said. “The leg is looking better. Soon you’ll be able to move around more.”I nodded, picking at the food. “Thanks. For everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”He leaned forward, taking my hand. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re safe from him. Ryder always w

Mia POVThe garden at my mother’s new house had become my favorite place in the entire world. The roses climbed the trellis Ryder had built with his own hands during one of his careful visits, their blooms heavy and fragrant with the full force of summer. I spent most mornings there with her, my hands deep in the rich, dark soil, talking about everything and nothing at all. The final secrets had been laid bare weeks ago, and somehow the truth — as painful as it had been — had freed us instead of destroying us completely. The drama that had nearly broken everything we had fought so hard to rebuild had finally quieted, leaving behind a fragile but growing space for real, lasting healing.This morning my mother was stronger than I had seen her in a very long time. She sat in her favorite wooden chair under the shade of the old oak tree that provided the perfect canopy of dappled light, watching me prune the climbing roses with steady, careful hands. Her color was better. Her eyes wer