Sofia sat curled up on the long velvet sofa in the Ravenstrong mansion, the hush of the vast house pressing in around her. The silence wasn't new—Adam's mansion always felt too big, too quiet—but tonight, it was different. Tonight, she missed him.
Her fingers brushed absently over the space beside her, where he usually sat after long days, jacket off, tie loosened, the weight of the world momentarily set aside. She closed her eyes, imagining the faint trace of his cologne lingering on the cushions.
"You've got it bad," Elise teased from the armchair, sipping her wine with a smirk.
Anne laughed, sprawling on the rug with a pillow hugged to her chest. "Admit it, Sof. You're miserable without him. We've only been here an hour, and you've sighed at least ten times."
Sofia rolled her eyes, but her lips curved against her will. "I'm not miserable," she murmured, though her voice softened. "I just... miss him."
