After she ended the call with Katherine, the room fell into a silence so deep it felt alive. Marian sank back onto the bed, her phone resting loosely in her hand, the screen dimming to black. The quiet wasn’t peaceful — it pressed against her, heavy and suffocating, amplifying every thought she had been trying not to think.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Her heart wouldn’t stop racing.
Daniel’s voice, his words, his tenderness — everything lingered like warmth after a fire, stubborn and impossible to ignore. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her forehead, the gentle insistence in his voice when he said he loved her.
Five years.
Five years of trying to bury what she felt for him.
Five years of avoiding his name, avoiding the city they lived in, avoiding any memory
