POV: Aaron
6:05 AM — Motel Mornings Are Always Grey
I didn't sleep.
She did — barely. Her breaths were uneven. A kind of sleep where the body gives up but the mind still paces in circles.
I stayed in the chair the whole night. I could've moved to the bed. I could've reached for her hand.
But I didn't.
Because if I touched her, it would've felt like a decision.
And I wasn't ready to make one yet.
6:40 AM — The Coffee Machine Sputters
The motel's "continental breakfast" was a lie dressed in stale carbs and watery coffee.
But I got up anyway. Got two cups.
One for me. One for her.
Because I still remembered how she liked it — two sugars, no cream.
When I set it down on the nightstand, her eyes opened. Puffy. Exhausted. Still beautiful.
"You stayed," she said.
"Yeah."
She sat up slowly, blanket pulled around her shoulders like armor. "I wasn't sure if you would."
"I wasn't either," I said.
7:00 AM — The Talk
We didn't tiptoe around it.
Not this time.
