Lorraine sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the lamplight pooling across the room. Her mind chased itself in endless circles: Roman’s intensity, his evasions, the ache she felt whenever she thought of leaving. This couldn’t last—she knew it. She couldn’t stay here forever, wrapped in his secrets.
So why did the thought of walking away sting so much?
A soft knock pulled her back.
“Come in,” she murmured.
Roman stepped inside, shoulders looser than usual, the sharp edges of his presence softened. He crossed the room and sat at the edge of her bed, leaning slightly toward her. For once, he wasn’t untouchable—he looked tired, human.
“I owe you honesty,” he said quietly. “Not everything, not yet. But more than I’ve given you.”
Lorraine’s chest tightened. She set aside the book in her
