**Elena’s POV**

It has been one week.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours since I walked out of Stefano’s house, trying to leave my heart on his doorstep. Seven endless days of waking up in a cold hotel room, staring at the ceiling, and waiting for the pain to stop.

I told myself I would be strong. I told myself I would survive this and stop thinking about how his voice sounds in the morning or how his hands felt when they held mine. I promised myself I would let him go.

Because all I do is ...