*Aryanna*

When I woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the windows, soft and hazy, creeping its way across the room. I blinked, my head still heavy with sleep. I reached out, touching Darren’s forehead. He didn’t have a fever, thank God. He was warm, sure, but not blazing hot. For a moment, I felt a strange, almost comforting sense of relief. I hadn’t seen him like this since we dated years ago. He looked so small, almost fragile. In that instant, I remembered all too well ...