Scott’s POV

The sheets where Rory slept were cold to the touch. The cool sensation and the knowledge she’d already left for the day made my eyes snap open. I stared at the indent in the pillow where her head had laid and sighed.

Rory asserted her independence. She didn’t shout and roar it to the skies, but her subtlety wasn’t lost on me.

In the mornings, Rory was gone. She left something for me if she knew I liked what she’d made, and left a note telling ...