Chapter 19 The Morning After the War

Chapter 19: 19 The Morning After the War

I woke up alone.

The first thing I registered was the scent of hotel linen—clean, sterile, and utterly devoid of him. The second was the dull, throbbing ache of frustration that had settled deep in my bones. My room was exactly as I had left it, the curtains drawn, the suitcases neatly unpacked. It was pristine, empty and a rejection.

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