Aria pov
I didn't argue. I lay against him in the dark, his arm heavy and warm across me, the city humming forty floors below and Noah breathing safely down the hall, and I felt the weight of a decision already made settle into my bones.
Two days, two days and this would either be over, or it would be the worst thing either of us had ever lived through.
I pressed my face against Damien's shoulder and chose, one more time, not to be afraid.
His phone lit up on the nightstand.
He reached for it, and I felt his entire body go rigid beside me, every muscle locking at once. I sat up, looked at the screen, and the air left my lungs in one slow exhale.
Another photo. The penthouse window, shot from somewhere high and close, the two of us visible in the golden light — lying together, my face turned into his shoulder, exactly as we'd been thirty seconds ago.
At the bottom, in plain text, two lines.
I see you making your little plans.
I'll see you before you see me.
