Morning came quietly, slipping through the thin curtains of Marian’s hotel room in pale, hesitant streaks of light. For a moment, she lay still beneath the covers, cocooned in that fragile space between sleep and waking—where reality hadn’t yet caught up to her, where memory softened and nothing demanded answers.
Then her mind caught up.
Daniel.
Her chest tightened, breath hitching as the previous day replayed itself in sharp, unwanted clarity—her tears, her guarded words, the way hope had slipped through her defenses without permission. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, the quiet pressing in around her like a held breath.
Five years, she thought. Five years, and he still unraveled her this easily.
With a slow exhale, she pushed herself upright, rubbing her hands ove
