Morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. August sleeps peacefully beside me, his breathing slow and steady, but I can't shake the feeling that it's all a lie. Peaceful? No. He only looks like it. Like someone harmless. Like someone who couldn't possibly do any wrong. But I know better.
I stay in bed, watching him, feeling the weight of something unexplainable pressing down on me. This—him, me, here—it doesn't make sense. How is he okay with sleeping next to me? And why do I feel okay sleeping next to him?
I don't.
I had no choice.
I tell myself that, over and over, like it'll somehow make this less complicated. Like it'll erase the way I ended up here in the first place. But my mind won't let it go. Not now. Not when everything is so quiet that m
