The Playbook for Heartbreak
But then the soft, familiar scent of vanilla, crisp amber, and warm tea drifted into the room.
Eve stepped into the living room, her bare feet making no sound against the floor. She was wearing a simple, dark green silk lounge set—unpolished, completely unarmored, her long dark hair falling in soft, natural waves down her back. In her hands, she held two heavy ceramic mugs, steam curling gently off the amber liquid inside.
She walked across the neutral zone without hesitation, approaching the couch.
"Chamomille with two drops of raw clover honey," Eve said softly, her quiet voice instantly cutting through the dark, suffocating fog in his mind. "The amino acid profile is optimized to reduce e