Three days at Maribel's apartment and I still can't sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that hotel room. Lucien's hands cupping my face. The gentleness of his kiss. The way he looked at me like I was someone worth seeing.
Then I wake up and remember the note. The empty bed. The fact that he disappeared like he was never real at all.
Maybe he wasn't.
Maribel's couch is comfortable enough. She's given me space, privacy, the guest bedroom she uses for storage. But I can't settle. Can't stop my mind from circling back to that night like a tongue probing a sore tooth.
"You need to eat something," Maribel says, appearing in the doorway with toast and coffee. "You've barely touched food in two days."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat anyway. Marcus wants you sharp for tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
