The scent of Reese’s cologne keeps Rebecca awake in the early hours of the morning, the sandalwood and spice intoxicatingly sweet. She wonders if it's possible to become addicted to a specific fragrance. If it is, she already has.

  The room is colder than usual. The vent is still open, but his body, lying next to her, brings her warmth. He’s sound asleep. Still and silent. His breathing, gentle. The darkness of the pre-dawn hours slowly shifts into a deep shade of blue.

  She had let him pull her back that night, a final taste of sweetness before swallowing the bitter pill of what was to come. She was desperate to memorize every detail, every touch, every scent, every nuance of him, as if to carve it permanently into her memory, and hold it close in the barren landscape of her future. She savored his touch, the way his fingers traced the curve of her spine, the way his breath caught in his throat when he kissed her.

  She had closed her eyes, surrendering to the illusion. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, a scent that would soon become a torturous reminder of her loss. She whispered promises she didn't intend to keep.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Now, as the pitch-black shadows begin to dissolve through the gap in the curtains, she reaches out, her fingers grazing his jawline. His skin is smooth, aside from the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the roughness of a growing beard. His eyelashes are dark and long. The temptation to stay, to lose herself once more in the ease of his embrace, is almost unbearable. But the memory of Anya's cold, mocking gaze, and everything she revealed, pushes her back. Reese was always meant to win, Rebecca is just a casualty. The thought of him, free and whole, seals her choice.

  She slips out of bed, moving carefully so he doesn’t stir.

  As she dresses, she notices the small wooden sparrow on the floor. It probably fell from her pocket at some point. She hesitates. Carrying a gift from him won’t help her with her ploy. She knows that. But even as the thought crosses her mind, she picks it up and places it back where it was.

  She pauses at the doorway, her gaze lingering on Reese’s sleeping form. Defenseless. Peaceful. The sight of him tears at her heart.

  She swallows the pain. She’ll have to get used to it.