Mira lingered there, long after Cassian had stepped out. The room suddenly felt cavernous, every shadow stretching longer than usual.
The hum of the ocean outside pressed insistently against her senses, louder now that his warmth was absent. She could still feel the memory of his hands at her waist, and it ached, not sharply, but deep enough to make her chest feel heavy in the golden light.
Her fingers traced along her side, remembering the way he'd pulled her close. That subtle, grounding pressure that had made her pulse quicken… now left behind only a faint ache.
Even in paradise, with sunlight spilling across the floor and sparkling through the glass, he had chosen something else, a discussion, work, something important over her.
She muttered under her breath, softly, almost to herself:
"Really? This? Now?"
The words sounded bitter even to her own ears. She tugged lightly at the hem of her top, twisting it in frustration.
