The room feels thick with heat and tension. Luke is lying beside me, his arm still draped across my waist, and I can feel his heart pounding against my shoulder. I almost hate how steady it is compared to the wild pace of my own.
For a moment, he’s silent, and I feel the urge to fill that silence, to somehow make him understand why this separation is necessary.
“I can’t keep staying here,” I say, staring up at the ceiling, willing myself to sound as composed as I can. “Pretending things are fine when they’re not.”
His hand tightens around me. “No.”
The word is small, quiet, but it hits me with a force that makes my chest ache.
“Luke…” I sigh, shifting to look at him, trying to gather my words into something that will break through his stubbornness. “I know you mean well, but it’s tim
