Her reflexes yanked her hand free. Under the bedside glow, her eyes darted everywhere but his face, as if the air itself had grown too tight to breathe.

"I... I'd rather wait until after the wedding. It just feels right that way."

Seeing her fear, Yannick eased back, palms lifting in surrender. "All right, whatever you say. You must be tired. Get some sleep—I'll finish the bed myself."

She shook her head once, tucked the corners with meticulous care, then slipped out, soft footsteps swallowed by the hallway.

Yannick sprawled across the mattress afterward, staring at the ceiling as if it hid answers. He turned left, right, left again-sleep refused to come.

His phone lit up. On the screen blinked Calvin's text: "Why aren't you picking up?"

During dinner he'd been laughing with Jocelyn, phone muted, time erased. He'd never noticed Calvin's calls.

He thumbed redial without thinking, pulse thudding in the hush.

"Hey, Calvin, what's up?"

"Took you long enough," Calvin said, worry outweighing annoyance.

Phone was across the room-didn't hear a

bleeding out through

what you did with Sven. Anything you ever need, the Lindbergs will see it

on, you and I don't


introduced to Cecilia. In truth, the three men were friends who'd

Calvin sounded ready to

you

thick as smoke, before

when

A long beat later, he muttered,

supposed to mean? Did something happen with

be: both he and Yannick loved women

to roam,

build a life, have a

preach.

quiet-each man staring into a different darkness imagining futures that

let the phone fall beside him, and stared at the ceiling


Jocelyn's cool tone in his head and felt a knot form in his chest. If her walls stayed up like this,

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