Grace POV

Ethan pulls away.

The loss hits me like a physical blow. Cold air rushes over my heated skin. The sudden absence of his weight, his warmth—it leaves me hollow and aching.

He's leaving. He's actually leaving.

Confusion tangles with hurt in my chest. One moment we were consumed by each other, and now he's reaching for his shirt with desperate, jerky movements.

I watch him dress, his back rigid, muscles tense. The rejection stings worse ...