Sally's POV
Sitting in Philip's living room feels surreal. He's right beside me, alive and breathing, yet part of me still can't believe he's really here. The nightmare of almost losing him keeps replaying in my mind like a broken record.
His thumb draws gentle patterns on my wrist as we sit together on the couch. The simple touch feels both familiar and foreign after everything that's happened. His breathing is steady and strong against my ear as I lean into his shoulder.
"I missed you," the words slip out in a whisper.
He makes a soft sound and rests his head against mine. "Me too."
We fall into comfortable silence, wrapped in the warmth of being together again. But even as I try to lose myself in this moment, the guilt creeps up my spine like ice water.
