ADRIAN slept like a man exhausted by his own choices, flat on his back with the thin weight of the night’s decisions heavy on his chest. Beside him, Vivian lay with her head tucked against his shoulder, breathing slow and even. He had not gone into the bedroom after the argument with Amelia; instead, he had walked into Vivian’s waiting arms and let the night swallow his better judgement.
Morning light slipped through the blinds, striping the room in pale gold. Adrian stirred, blinked, and reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. For a second he simply lay there, looking down at Vivian’s profile, the soft slope of her cheek, the artificial dark lashes resting against her skin, the small smile she had been unable to hide even in sleep. Guilt sat heavy in his ribs, but so did a stubborn an
