Winter’s POV

His scent, familiar and grounding, wrapped around me, and my throat tightened. If everything had gone the way we planned, this would be one of the last times I would ever feel this safe with him.

My fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes as if I could anchor myself there, as if letting go meant admitting the truth I was not ready to say out loud.

I thought about my best friend then. About how she had not called me once while I was gone. Not a message. Not a check in. Ever ...