COLEEN

The moment I stepped into the Michaels mansion, I forgot how to breathe.

I tried to remind myself that this wasn’t some royal palace. It was just Hayden’s house. His childhood home. The place he grew up in. But the longer I stood there, clutching his hand, the less it felt like a home at all.

It felt like a museum. A place where everything looked perfect but no one actually lived.

“Wow,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Hayden gave my hand a squeeze. ...