Sienna didn't sleep.
Not really.
She lay there with her eyes closed, body still, breath measured—performing rest more than experiencing it. Beside her, Alessandro slept deeply, one arm thrown across the pillow where her shoulder had been before she shifted away slightly, careful not to wake him.
Even in sleep, he reached for her.
That did something to her chest.
Tightened it. Softened it. Broke it open.
The room was quiet except for the slow rhythm of his breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Somewhere, a car passed. Somewhere else, a siren wailed briefly before fading into nothing.
Life continuing.
Unbothered by her crisis.
She stared at the ceiling, replaying James's words over and over again like a recording she couldn't shut off.
Think about what you want your life to look like in five years.
Five years.
It felt absurd.
Five years ago, she had been a completely different person. Careful. Calculated. Building a future that looked perfect on paper.
