Emma's POV
Some memories don't fade.
They settle like dust in all the places we don't clean—quiet, stubborn, patient.
And sometimes…
they return without warning.
Like tonight.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of my small apartment. The clock glowed 1:17 a.m., but sleep was nowhere near me. Clara's words replayed over and over—sharp, deliberate, hitting everywhere I'd worked so hard to shield.
You cost him everything.
He fell apart because he cared.
Stay gone.
But the funny thing about being told to stay away from someone you once loved is…..
your mind immediately drags you back to the moment you fell.
Mine went to a small penthouse kitchen overlooking the city, where everything smelled like citrus and coffee and hope.
To a night long before we broke.
Back when everything was still intact.
We were twenty-six, reckless in ways only people who believed heartbreak was something that happened to other people could be.
