Isla’s POV
The island felt different in the morning. Not quieter. Not colder. Just emptied, like something beautiful had already packed its bags and left before we woke. The sunlight came through the villa windows the same way it always did, soft and golden, touching the walls and the floor like a blessing. But the rooms no longer held warmth. They held echoes. Footsteps from days that had passed too quickly. Laughter that lingered only in memory. Truths that almost surfaced and then sank again beneath silence.
We prepared to leave without speaking about the night before.
No mention of the forehead kiss.
No acknowledgment of the way his breath had trembled when his lips touched my skin.
No words for how the world disappeared in that moment and returned louder than ever after.
Chase m
