(Michelle Lui's POV)
Sleep didn't come.
Not easily.
Not at all, actually.
I tossed.
Turned.
Buried my face in a pillow.
Even tried hugging Kate like she was a giant plushie, clinging a little too tightly as if pressure alone could silence the trembling under my ribs.
Nothing worked.
Because every time I closed my eyes…
I saw Steven's.
That quiet confusion.
That strain in his voice.
That softness he never used with anyone else.
And each time the memory replayed, my chest tightened, a small, traitorous flutter sparking low in my stomach. My fingers curled unconsciously into the sheets, grasping at something to anchor myself.
And the pull — that weird, aching, familiar pull — it was louder than ever.
It thrummed beneath my skin, unsettling, insistent, like my heartbeat kept tripping over itself whenever I tried to steady it.
A pull toward someone I loved in another life.
Someone who loved me too — but only in the parts he knew how to give.
