Meredith.
I didn't even realize where my feet had carried me until I looked up and saw the tall, familiar doors of Draven's study.
My breath caught. For a moment, I considered turning back, but before I could stop myself, my knuckles rapped lightly against the wood.
But there was no answer, so I pushed the door open. The room was empty.
Relief and disappointment tangled in my chest. Slowly, I stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind me.
My hand lifted to my cheek, wiping away the trail of tears. My face burned at the thought of anyone seeing me like this.
I just needed someone or something—anything to hold onto.
And that was when my eyes drifted to the sitting area, to the sofa where I had sat yesterday morning, when Draven had poured that strange creamy drink for me.
We had spoken so openly then. His honesty had hurt, but it had also settled something inside me.
And right now, all I wanted was that same sweetness, something to distract me even if it was for a moment.
