NYRA

I woke before the sun.

The room was still dark, the air was heavy with that quiet that comes before morning truly begins.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to Jackson’s slow breathing beside me. His arm was thrown over my waist, heavy, warm, and possessive even in sleep.

I carefully lifted it off me.

The cold hit my skin as I sat up. My head felt tight. My chest felt tighter.

I had to go to the clinic.

My shift was in the afternoon, but that ...