Celeste;
It's not supposed to be a thing. I know.
When Romano falls asleep this time, unlike in the penthouse, he chooses the couch and leaves the bed to me.
I can't sleep.
Tossing and turning in the king-sized bed, rolling beneath the comforter to the point I risk waking him.
A thought tugs at the strings of my chest. Nagging, prodding, even when I refuse to give in.
My gaze drifts to the drawer, the image of what lies inside it burning into the back of my mind. I curb the urge to reach for it.
Closing my eyes, I try again, but sleep evades me. Slipping further away the more I chase it.
And I give in.
Ruggiero isn't home. This is my only chance.
Heart thundering against my ribcage, I carefully crawl out of bed—so careful I barely make a sound.
I leave my flip-flops behind, casting one last glance at Romano's steady breathing before slipping out and easing the door shut behind me.
