The room felt colder than it should have.

Isabel stepped inside with slow steps. The air smelled like cologne and linen, sharp and clean, like it hadn’t been touched by anyone else but him. Her hand hovered near her waist, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

Across the room, Isaac was pulling a clean shirt over his head, the muscles in his back moving under the fabric as he finished buttoning the collar. His expression was unreadable, but he glanced at her once without ...