When she opened my eyes again, it was already early morning the next day.

The window was covered by thick curtains, dimming the room with faint light.

Isabella lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind momentarily blank. Everything that happened last night seemed like a romantic dream, somewhat unreal and even absurd.

She moved her body, feeling as if she had been run over by a car, so sore that she didn't even have the strength to get up.

"Awake?" Andrew's low, magnetic voice sounded beside ...