The morning air did not just feel cold; it felt suffocating. There was a heavy, constricting sensation lodged deep within Sarah's throat, a phantom pressure that made every attempt to breathe feel like swallowing shards of glass. Standing in the center of her room, she drew in one ragged breath after another, her chest heaving as she desperately tried to anchor her spiraling thoughts. She was preparing herself, or at least attempting to. In just a matter of minutes, she would have to step outside, cross the threshold of this sanctuary, and go to work alongside Jayden.
The harsh reality of daylight did nothing to dilute the memory of the night before. It hadn't been a dream. It hadn't been a cruel, vivid trick played by her hyperactive imagination. Last night, they had stood on the precipice of something entirely irreversible. They had nearly slept together. They had nearly crossed the boundary from which there was no returning, collapsing into an abyss of raw, unadulterated passion.
