The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in on me. Dr. Evans' words echoed in my head, a constant reminder of the truth I now held: Ava was dead. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of a world that had suddenly shifted on its axis.
Alexander returned from his phone call, his face unreadable. As we stared at each other for a moment, I felt a strong sense of empathy. The news of her death must have been so painful that he had chosen to forget about it. What did it say about me that I was here, pretending to be the love of his life when I was nothing more than a stranger to him?
"You're coming home with me," he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.
My eyes widened in protest. "Home? To my apartment?"