Ariana’s POV
The smell of vanilla-scented fabric softener clung to Lana’s pillow. Light filtered through her curtains, too soft, too peaceful for how raw I felt inside.
My phone was still under my blanket, clutched against my chest like a secret.
1 New Message
Roman
“I didn’t sleep.”
“Kept thinking about you.”
“I don’t care what anyone says. I’m not giving up on us.”
My throat closed.
I closed my eyes and let the pain crash again.
Lana stirred beside me, hair a wild mess across her cheek. She didn’t say anything just reached over and gently squeezed my hand.
Roman was in the kitchen when I walked in later that day. White t-shirt. Grey sweatpants. Eyes that looked like they hadn’t slept in days.
He looked up like the sight of me physically hurt.
Our parents were nowhere to be
