NICKOLAS

I twirl my bourbon glass, captivated by the intricate dance of ice cubes within, each movement offering a temporary respite from the weight of reality pressing down on me. Shifting my gaze upwards, I observe Amelia sleeping soundly in her bed a few feet away. Her golden locks cascade over the pillow, and a subtle pout graces her lips, an endearing sight that unexpectedly tugs at my heartstrings.

Images flash through my mind with vivid intensity, relentless and unyielding. I ...