DAXTON

The couch was too short and too narrow. But none of that mattered. Not when she was just down the hall.

I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt her and heard her soft sighs. Every wall in this house still carried the memory of us, and even if my mind didn't remember, my body did.

It ached with it, with her.

The scent of her lingered in the pillow she'd left me. Lavender and vanilla and home.

I turned over again, restless. ...