Jace's message came in at 8:27 p.m.
Jace: Home soon.
I stared at it for so long the letters started to blur.
It was just one line. There was no apology. No explanation. No question. No pressure either.
And yet it felt heavier than anything else he could've sent.
I curled deeper into the sheets, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure under my ribs. My daughter had been kicking for the last ten minutes straight, probably picking up on my mood, and each movement made me more aware of the hollow ache in my chest.
I didn't want to be angry.
I didn't even want space.
Not really.
I just… needed to breathe without feeling like every second of my day was being monitored. I needed to remember I was still capable. Still trusted. Still… me. I knew that I may slightly have overreacted. His intentions were pure. They always had been. But I was beginning to feel suffocated and he needed to understand that.
