Morning light woke me. Pale. Gray. But morning.
I lay there staring at the ceiling. Replaying last night. Lily's nightmare. Ethan's confession. The way his voice had broken.
The way he'd said thank you.
I should feel nothing. He was a stranger. His daughter was a stranger. This was temporary.
But my chest felt tight. Heavy. Like something had shifted that I couldn't shift back.
Voices drifted from the kitchen. Soft. Familiar now.
I got up. Changed into the same borrowed clothes. My own dress still sat folded on the dresser. Ruined. Useless.
Like me.
I opened the door. Hesitated.
What if last night changed things? Made them worse? What if Ethan regretted opening up, regretted letting me see him break?
Only one way to find out.
I walked to the kitchen.
Ethan stood at the counter.
