Roman’s POV
She was here.
In my space.
And I didn’t know whether to scream, kiss her, or throw myself off my damn balcony.
I leaned against the window, watching the city lights blur beneath my fingertips. Her scent lingered rosewater and something warmer, softer. Like comfort I didn’t deserve.
She was in the guest room, probably curled up on the farthest edge of the bed like she didn’t want to be touched by anything that belonged to me. I couldn’t blame her.
The sound of her throwing up still echoed in my skull. And the way her eyes welled up with tears when she said, “Why didn’t you just tell me?” it gutted me.
I didn’t have an answer that would fix any of this.
I should’ve told her everything about Clara. I knew it. But at the time, I thought silence would spare her more than the
