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I woke up to the soft gray light of a winter morning streaming through my curtains, casting a muted glow that made my room look like it was still half-asleep. For a brief moment, as I slowly emerged from sleep, I forgot about the mess I'd created the night before. But then, it all came rushing back.
Ethan's quiet "I'll wait," the way his voice cracked on that word, and the warm memory of that last kiss. My chest tightened as if someone had squeezed my heart in a fist.
Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I saw it light up with notifications that frankly didn't matter. No new messages. None from him, anyway. I found myself staring at the empty lock screen longer than I should have, waiting for that familiar buzz, the little "good morning, handsome" text that had become as routine as sunrise over the past few months.
