MELISSA’S POV

Davis and I had spoken two days ago, but those forty-eight hours stretched like months inside my chest. Every second dragged, weighted down by silence, gnawing at my patience until it felt like my skin was buzzing. Rationally, I kept telling myself that I needed to trust the process, that Davis knew what he was doing and that he wouldn’t waste time if there wasn’t something worth chasing. But rational thought didn’t quiet the storm inside me.

Every passing hour ...