Roman's POV.
The door slammed behind me.
I didn’t care how loud it was. Let the f*****g walls shake.
My boots hit the floor like thunder as I stalked through the apartment, the scent of her still in the air. Vanilla and sweat. That faint sweetness she left behind like a ghost on my skin. My blood was fire. My head was chaos. The alcohol didn’t help—it only made everything sharper, louder.
She lied to me.
She f*****g lied.
I shoved open the guest room door without knocking. The light was off. Moonlight bled through the blinds and spilled across the bed, and there she was curled up on her side, hugging a pillow like it could protect her from me.
She sat up fast. “Roman?”
Her voice was small. Uncertain. She blinked through the dark, her hair wild, her shirt oversized and slipping off
