His hands.
The weight of his presence still clung to me like smoke.
I hated how deeply he lived in my soul.How easily he bypassed logic and went straight for something older, quieter, more dangerous.I had left because I knew if I stayed, I would have given him everything again without proof he could stay once the moment passed.
The drive felt longer than it should have.Or maybe I needed it to be.
By the time we turned onto my street, the ache in my chest had dulled into something steadier.Controlled.Manageable.I told myself it was strength.
The car slowed in front of my house.
The driver stepped out and opened my door.Cool night air brushed over my bare shoulders as I stepped onto the pavement, the hem of my gown whispering around my ankles.
“Would you like me to wait until you’re inside, Mrs.Powell?”he asked.
“Yes,” I said quickly—then softened it.“Thank you.”
My heels clicked against the pavement as I made my way to the door.
A chill swept over me, the kind that had nothing to do with the weather.A slow prickle ran down my spine.
Someone was watching.
I glanced toward the street.Empty.No cars.No figures lurking beneath the streetlights.
Get a grip.
Still, the feeling didn’t fade.
The driver lingered beside the car, watching me carefully.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.I listened to the low rumble of the engine as the driver pulled away from the curb.
Inside, the house was dark and still.The kind of quiet that made every sound feel amplified.I locked the door, armed the alarm, and stood there for a moment with my hand resting against the wood.
Breathing.
In my bedroom, I kicked off my heels and crossed the room, loosening the clasp at the back of my neck.The black dress slid down my body, pooling at my feet.The woman who had worn it tonight—sharp, polished, composed—felt like someone else entirely.I pulled on a silk robe, tied it loosely, and padded barefoot back downstairs.
Only then did I make myself a cup of chamomile tea.
The mug was warm in my hand as I crossed to the living room window, the stars stretching out beneath the dark sky.Endless.Indifferent.My reflection stared back at me—eyes shadowed, mouth set, a woman pretending she hadn’t just walked away from the one man who could undo her.
A car slowed at the curb.
My pulse jumped before my mind caught up.
I leaned closer to the glass.
The headlights cut.
The engine went quiet.
Creed’s car.
My breath caught as he stepped out, his movements sharp, purposeful.He didn’t hesitate.Didn’t look around.Just walked straight toward my house like he already belonged there.
Then he lifted his phone.Within seconds, mine rang.
