Olivia

I woke to predawn light filtering through unfamiliar windows, disoriented until memory clicked into place. The Caymans. Our last day.

Alexander lay beside me, still deeply asleep. His face was softer in sleep, and the perpetual tension in his jaw finally eased. Hair fell across his forehead, and one arm was thrown over his head in careless abandon.

I propped myself on one elbow, studying him. Memorizing the slope of his nose, the way his chest rose ...