The vast king-sized bed in Adrian's luxury penthouse felt less like a bed and more like an ice rink… a wide, frigid expanse she could never quite warm, no matter how close she dared to drift toward his side.
She remembered a time when the mattress had felt too small for the two of them, when they had tangled together instinctively in their sleep, limbs finding each other without conscious thought, breath mingling in the dark as though their bodies had never learned the meaning of separation.
Now it stretched like an ocean between two shores that had drifted irrevocably apart, and she sometimes lay there calculating the exact distance between his shoulder and hers, as if measuring the damage might somehow help her understand it.
