He held her like he was anchoring something he didn't know he was about to lose.
And maybe, deep down, some part of him had known. Maybe that was why he couldn't let go of her earlier.
Why he kissed her like the world was ending. Why he moved inside her like he was trying to carve the feeling into his bones.
But now the space beside him was cold.
Craig's hand moved across the sheets, searching instinctively for her warmth. All he found was fabric that had long stopped holding her shape.
His eyes opened slowly. The room was dim, quiet in that strange way it gets after something unforgettable.
He sat up, heart thudding in his chest with a dull ache. His gaze swept the room. Her shoes were gone. The clothes she'd worn, gone. Her voice, her scent, her presence, gone.
"Merlina?" he called out.
But he was answered by silence. It was like she had erased herself.
He threw the covers off and reached for his phone on the nightstand. Maybe she left a message. Something. Anything.
