MACEY

After that sham of a lunch, I went home feeling like I’d been hit by a slow, invisible storm. My head was buzzing, my chest tight, and my emotions—God—somewhere between fury and heartbreak. I kicked off my shoes the second I stepped inside and dropped my purse onto the couch. The apartment felt unusually quiet, too still for my restless mind.

The first thing I did when I got home was grab my phone. My thumb hovered over Damien’s name longer than I wanted to admit, like calling ...