Unbreak Me (Fate’s Choice #3)

JAN. 1

That night, after Uncle Frank left, Day and I slept in the same bed for the first time—mine, to be exact. We kissed for a while, slow and unhurried, tasting each other. I peppered his face with soft kisses, and he breathed deeply, like it was some kind of healing process. I let it go on until he looked ready to rest. Moments later, we both fell into the kind of deep, peaceful sleep I hadn’t had in ages.

I didn’t feel any need to rush what was building between us. Day also didn’t bring up the topic of sex; we just left it kinda in the ‘open’ space.

The next day was sunny, and for the first time, Day agreed to go swimming with me at the pond.

We went around noon, when the water was the warmest. Day stripped down to his swim trunks, and I’ll admit, seeing his body stirred up feelings I’d been holding back. I had to quickly dive into the water up to my waist before anything showed.

He let his hair down, even though it was probably uncomfortable for swimming. It fell in soft brown waves over his shoulders and almost to his waist. Day was so svelte, with a very narrow waist that gave him that willowy aura, but his small butt was pleasantly rounded—it was likely the roundest part of his body.

As he stepped into the water, he crossed his arms over his chest like he was embarrassed.

I smirked and swam closer, gently pulling his hands away. "Don’t hide them, please. They’re beautiful."

I’d never seen him blush so hard. His cheeks turned beet red as he quickly submerged himself in the water. "I’ve always been self-conscious about them," he admitted. "All those pregnancies made them bigger. Hard to hide under thin clothes…"

"Why hide something so attractive? You’re perfect," I expressed, swimming alongside him and wrapping my arms around him. "Your body is part of your life, formed by your past, and I accept you exactly as you are."

Day’s eyes were wide open, and then he grabbed me by the back of my head, pressing his lips to mine, opening them eagerly for a moment as we kissed passionately.

Since yesterday, Day seemed more cheerful, more relaxed, even more keen to just chat. He hadn’t smoked a single cigarette all morning, and ate more than usual at breakfast.

We swam for almost half an hour, exchanging subtle smiles the entire time, but Day, who was, of course, considerably thinner than I was, finally suggested that we return to shore, feeling a bit cold.

Onshore, I rubbed his body vigorously with a towel to warm him, and then we sat in the sun for a while, my arms wrapped around his back and his head resting on my shoulder.

It was a new, pleasant feeling, this slowly building closeness between us. There was such peace and a pleasant lack of impatience. Neither of us wanted to rush into anything; we seemed to have this silent agreement.

Later, back at the house, I found him rearranging his nest in his room. This time, he’d added more colors—yellow and orange—and even used one of my sweaters.

Through the partially open door, I watched him for a moment, feeling a spark of excitement as he finished the nest, weaving scarves into it. This time, it had… lower edges. Was that a good sign?

Day caught me watching, and snorted. "Hey!" he teased, playfully pouting his lips.

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Just admiring the view."

He blushed a little, his hand brushing over my sweater, now part of the nest.

"I… thought about going to your bedroom to start a new one there," he admitted, his voice faltering slightly. "But I couldn’t leave this one messy. I guess I just needed to feel like I was tying up loose ends."

His words left my chest feeling strangely tight. "Thanks for sharing that with me. It means a lot that you trust me enough to talk about your nesting. Take your time—do what feels right for you. And just so you know, my bedroom’s ready whenever you feel like starting there."

"It might be sooner than you think," he said with a small, hesitant smile.

My eyebrows shot up instinctively. "What do you mean?"

Day held my gaze for a moment before softly saying, "I think it’s coming, Jan."

My mind immediately clicked to what he meant. "Your heat?"

It was barely a whisper, "Yes."

There was something raw in his expression as he added, "I’ve only spent one heat in my life with a man. After that, I’ve always been on my own. It’s been… tough."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "If you’ll let me, I’ll make sure it will be better this time."

Day swallowed hard, his lips curving into a faint, tentative smile. Then he nodded.

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That evening, while we were eating dinner, Day glanced at his phone. Suddenly, his expression changed.

"There’s something new about Ferguson," he said, biting his lip nervously as he stared at the screen.

I quickly approached him—he was scrolling through the list of articles from the local news service. One of them read:

"Changes are underway in the management of DarenCo Company; the board announced the formation of a search committee consisting of board members to vote for a new CEO. They have several new candidates. As the company spokesman put it, there are certain reasons for replacing the current CEO, Mark Ferguson, which are currently an internal matter of the company."

The article was short and lacked any sensational tone; apparently, the company was proceeding very cautiously for now. And the journalist who wrote this news didn’t seem to sense any scandal behind it, so the news had a strictly informational tone.

I looked at Day and gently squeezed his hand.

"Another blow for that bastard. I suspect he already got one yesterday when Jared found out the truth, and this is the second one. Now we’re waiting for the third one. For every single time he hurt you, that pervert will have to pay."

Day’s big gray eyes stared at me.

"I don’t know why, but it gives me strange pleasure that you’ve divided it into three blows. I feel the hand of justice in this, as if you were a messenger of Fate—" Suddenly, he closed his eyes, cut off, and sighed deeply.

His hand slid slowly to his chest, then to his thigh in a strangely sensuous manner, his cheeks slightly pink. I observed it with some surprise, and unexpectedly he whispered, "It’s close, Jan."

There was a long moment of silence as I fought off some inappropriate physical reactions to the idea of spending his heat together.

Day’s hand rose, and he touched his left gland. As he pulled his collar aside, it became clear that his gland was slightly pink and a bit swollen.

"You know, I’ve always been one of those people for whom sex was a very intimate experience. I’ve never had a one-night stand. Nico was my only boyfriend. What happened with Ferguson—" he cut off again.

I knelt next to his chair and took both of his hands, looking him straight in the eyes. "Day, don’t put pressure on yourself. I understand everything… We still have time."

He shook his head. "No, that’s not what I meant. I want this, despite what happened. My readiness is growing. I would like to experience sex again… in a positive way. This heat may be the best thing; it really makes all of this so much easier." Day furrowed his brow. "It's just a little… intense. And quick."

I kissed his hand. "Remember, Day, you decide here. If you still want to consider suppressing the heat—"

Day shook his head almost violently, but then his phone unexpectedly rang.

For a moment, I felt waves of fear; who could it be? But I was almost certain that Day had a different phone number now, and Ferguson couldn’t call.

"It’s my father calling; I have to take this," Day said and got up to go to the terrace.

He spoke with his father for a while, and I stayed inside, not wanting to eavesdrop.

Buddy came over and whined softly, as if picking up on the tension—and he wasn’t wrong. The stress was written all over Day’s face—the moment he stepped into the terrace doorway, I knew it wasn’t good news.

"Father says that yesterday a taxi pulled up to their house, and some young, pretty omega got out of it, asking about me. But when they said I no longer lived there, he started inquiring if he could get my new address. But luckily, he faced my alpha father, who is very distrustful. Father told him they had no contact with me and didn’t know where I was. It’s a real miracle that his intuition told him to say that."

"Wait… Who was that omega?" I raised my eyebrows.

Day sat next to me on the couch. Both dogs came closer and lay down next to us.

"From my father’s description, a tall, beautiful blond guy—it seems it was Jared Ferguson."

For a moment, I stared at Day with a puzzled expression.

Well, we’d talked about the chance of someone showing up before, but Jared acting so quickly caught me off guard. Day simply spread his arms and shrugged.

"Father said he behaved quite agitatedly, stubbornly insisting on getting in touch with me."

I saw the concern on Day’s face, a vertical crease forming on his forehead, so I wrapped my arms around him.

"Strange that he came alone, almost like he was doing it on his own; somehow, I doubt Ferguson sent him."

Day nodded. "He must’ve come to his senses and is probably mad at me now for potentially costing him his luxurious life with a millionaire. Jared had a very tough life before he met Ferguson; he was a young model who had to sleep with photographers to get gigs. He told me about it once in a moment of honesty, that despite his looks, he couldn’t make a career out of it. Especially because many companies use AI models now; not many want to spend cash on real people. The competition is brutal. Mark was then one of the directors at DarenCo, not yet in the CEO position, but he had enough money to help Jared’s career. He organized private sessions for him and helped him find gigs, thanks to his own contacts."

Suddenly, something dawned on me.

"Hm. The email I sent to Jared didn’t actually say the video would go public. Maybe he thought he was the only one who got it, so he paid up to settle the matter. But now that Mark’s been fired, he’s probably realizing whoever sent that email isn’t backing down."

Day glanced at me, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, that makes sense. He might’ve thought at first you were just some ‘friend’ sharing the video privately, so he figured paying me would take care of it. But now he knows it’s a way bigger deal."

I furrowed my brow. The explanation seemed to fit, though I didn’t know Jared’s personality. I could only try to extrapolate what I would do in his place.

"If I were to guess what he wants, it’s to beg you to testify that it was consensual."

Silence fell; Day blinked rapidly, as if my guess itself was incomprehensible. Then he snapped out of it and scoffed in frustration.

"It’s hard to believe. How could he ask for something like that, with all the facts staring him in the face?"

"Maybe he knows it wasn’t consensual but still wants to ask you, beg you, perhaps at Ferguson’s urging… for you to testify in their favor. Perhaps they want to pay you more money? To shut you up, to say it was just a game, a play you agreed to…?"

Day clenched his hands into fists.

"I won’t do it! They can’t expect that of me; it would be outrageous…" His lips trembled, and I quickly pulled him closer so he could bury his face in my chest. I could tell it deeply affected him.

Buddy and Max raised their heads, peering at us, clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere.

"Let’s not worry for now, but we definitely should—"

He suddenly snapped his head up, looking me in the eyes. "Remember I told you about other omegas possibly being his victims? I saw a few strange situations… Jared also had suspicions that something eerie was going on, since a couple of Ferguson’s PAs filed their resignations," Day blurted out.

"Did he tell you this?"

"No, I heard him talking about it once with his cousin Alex on the phone, quietly, when he thought I couldn't hear. It’s really hard to imagine he would dare to ask me to keep my mouth shut, having all these clues."

"Well, we don’t know for sure what he wants."

"Also, I know Jared has a very unfavorable prenup with Ferguson; if they divorce, Jared ends up with a small sum in his account. He probably thinks, well… that he must start taking care of his future and his child’s. It's likely that he's hiring a detective now."

I thought for a long moment about what he said. "There are two ways. We can sit and wait for him to find us, or we can confront him."

"Confront? What do you mean?"

"To contact him ourselves and—"

"No! I don't want anything from him! Nor will I testify in Ferguson’s favor! I want him to pay for what he has done…" Day exhaled, his voice shaking, but I could still hear a strong conviction in it. "I won’t back out now—not after all these years of hating my fears…"

"I understand that, Day, but if he really hired a detective, they’ll show up here—it will be on their terms, not ours. If they do it quickly enough, before the police know about the case, we may have a situation here. And I don’t want to put you at risk."

He took a deep breath. "What do you suggest? I really want to avoid confrontation."

"I was planning to send the email to East Times tomorrow, but I think, in this scenario, we should rush it. The quicker Nico gets the green light, the better. We can only hope the private detective won’t work faster. We need more eyes on this case; it will be safer that way. Jared was probably in such a hurry to prevent it from coming out."

Day was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, let’s send the email as quick as we can. Do you have a burner phone?"

"Yes, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to send the email from here. If someone wanted to track our location, they could use triangulation and calculate the distance from the nearest cell tower to find us. I’d need to get at least a half-hour away from the plantation—Harbury Creek would be best, since it’s the biggest town nearby. Sending the email from there would be much safer."

Day immediately perked up.

"Good idea! I’ll go with you!"

I laughed. "You sure?"

"Of course! This almost sounds like a road trip !"

Smiling, I rolled my eyes but nodded too. "Well, okay. It’ll be safer anyway. You shouldn’t stay here alone, not with the private detective possibly looking for us."

Day looked a bit restless, as if ready to leave at any moment.

"Alright…" I stood up, and Buddy and Max jumped to their feet as if they wanted to tag along.

"No, no, no. You two stay here and guard the house!" I wagged a finger at them, and Max barked loudly in protest.

Soon after, we left the house and headed for my van. The first thing I did was turn off the GPS, then we hit the road.

Day seemed in surprisingly good spirits. At one point, he even leaned his head out the window, letting the wind mess up his hair. He stayed like that for a bit, eyes closed, just soaking it in.

"Where are your glasses? When I first saw you in the booth, you were wearing those wire-frame ones."

Day looked a little self-conscious and laughed awkwardly.

"I sometimes wear fake ones. I’ve got perfect vision."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I took them with me as part of my strategy to keep alphas at bay. The whole ensemble—gray sweats, old sneakers, cigarettes—"

"Well, obviously it didn't work." I gave him a meaningful look.

Day burst out laughing. "Maybe it even had the opposite effect?"

I winked. "Maybe!"

A comfortable silence fell as we drove along the dark road. Forests and fields stretched out on both sides, not a single house in sight.

I noticed the shift in his mood right away. He bit his lip, started absentmindedly scratching his chin, and finally murmured,

"That’s one of the reasons I never took action against him—the fear that I’d have to fight alone."

"You are not alone. We just need to stay in the house for the next few days, just to be safe, and give Nico a chance to spread the word."

"Yes, I’m glad you’re in this with me."

"That's what husbands are for—to support their halves! Right?" I smiled at him encouragingly, and he responded with a shy smile.

"Right. To have each other’s backs and take on life together," he whispered a little solemnly.

We drove for a while, then Day looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

"I never would’ve guessed our relationship would… turn out like this."

"Like… what?" I raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer, just smirked and glanced down at his hands, and that’s when I noticed something peeking out from under his sleeve—a bracelet made of agates.

"You’re wearing it?"

He looked a little sheepish. "Yeah… I like it."

This time, the silence was pleasant. Our eyes met briefly—though I had to keep watching the road—but it was enough to share a nice moment, a quiet exchange of energy.

Not long after, we reached the town and sent the email to East Times . Day watched the screen closely. His gaze lingered for a second on the file attachment under the recipient’s address line, but he didn’t say a word.

The drive back was quieter, but the vibe wasn’t off. I could feel Day glancing at me occasionally, almost like he was studying me—or maybe even his eyes had a bit of… flirty flicker to them? At one point, I caught his gaze and gave him a knowing smile.

He blushed and quickly looked away, focusing on the road instead.

"Have you been with a lot of guys?" he asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard, and I flinched slightly.

"Uh… ‘a lot’ is subjective. Like you, I’ve never had a one-night stand. But I’ve had a few short relationships—five, to be exact. They lasted anywhere from a month to three months. They all ended pretty… disappointingly, though. The whole ‘beta dating’ thing. Most of that was during the first three years of college. After that, I just stopped trying."

Day seemed perplexed. "You didn’t date anyone for five years?"

I exhaled deeply. "Nope. I think I was waiting for a miracle—or maybe for Frank to finally convince me."

Day smiled under his breath.

"And he did."

"Eventually, yeah."

When we got back to the tree nursery, both dogs immediately ran up to greet us.

Seeing them, Day muttered,

"You should lock them in their kennels at night. I saw a movie once about a burglar who killed the dogs before breaking into the house. They shouldn’t be left to guard the outside."

I glanced at him thoughtfully, debating whether to comment on his grim scenario, but I decided not to ruin his mood. "I will lock them in at night. They’ll be safe."

We went inside. It was late, close to midnight.

Day headed upstairs to take a shower, while I used the bathroom on the first floor.

When I climbed the stairs to head to my bedroom, I stopped in my tracks.

Day was just entering the doorway to my room, carrying an armful of pillows, blankets, and fabric strips.

Now, that was an unexpected but quite a welcome sight. I hesitated, then quietly backed away to give him some privacy for nesting.

Feeling almost euphoric, I went back downstairs. Day wanted to enter my space—felt ready! He was going to nest on my bed… That was a great, wonderful change.

Walking around the kitchen, I couldn’t stop grinning. Finally, I grabbed a quick snack and even gave Milky and Fuzz an extra helping of food since they were very insistent—and I felt pretty elated.

Finally, I could sense—almost instinctively—that it was a good moment to go upstairs again.

I went up quietly, holding my breath, and stood in the doorway of my bedroom.

Day was sitting on the bed, surrounded by a simple but cozy two-person nest made of blankets and pillows in soft, soothing colors. He looked up at me as I stepped in. He was wearing just a tank top, which showed off his bare shoulders, and a pair of boxers.

Slowly, I climbed onto the bed and cautiously slipped into the nest. At first, Day seemed a little distracted, as if he were still caught up in the trance of the nesting process, but it didn’t take long for his focus to switch back to me.

A long silence hung between us, and I could feel the energy shifting. It was subtle at first, almost as though I were tuned into his nervous system.

Everything began to change gradually. His heartbeat picked up, his breathing got deeper, and his small hand rose up, touched me lightly, then slid higher along my arm until it rested against the side of my neck.

That touch—a hand placed there—was considered deeply intimate, reserved only for those in a close relationship. A wave of joy washed over me, knowing that, in a way, Day was affirming what we had together.

He slowly lifted his head. His cheeks were pink due to the pre-heat phase. His gaze met mine, and in that instant, I knew exactly what he wanted. He didn’t need to say it—I could sense it. He wanted me to kiss him, make out with him, touch him. This semi-telepathic connection was puzzling.

Was this the right time to bring it up? No. So, instead of talking, I leaned in toward his waiting lips and kissed them. They were soft, warm, and inviting.

When we broke apart briefly, catching our breath, Day leaned his head back slightly and, with a voice that sounded different, spoke, "I want to be touched again."

I was about to bring up how far he was open-and-willing to go this time, to make sure I had his full approval, but decided that might spoil the romantic mood. Maybe Day's approach of not talking too much about sex was better? Perhaps it was healthier to just go with the energy.

Then, Day slowly removed his hair tie and sank into the pillows.

I watched him, not knowing what to expect because the emotions he was feeling were too complicated for my level of focus.

Most of my blood had already rushed downward, leaving my head a bit fuzzy. Still, the fact that I had access to his emotions at all was surprising enough.

I propped myself up on one elbow. The silence was growing intense, and a faint blush appeared on his face as I brushed my fingers along the line of his cheek and jaw.

"I just want to feel good. It helps me not think about all that stuff," he whispered, his voice trailing off.

His gaze slowly moved down my chest, then lingered even lower.

"Do you want me to do the same thing as last time?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Maybe we could, you know, rub up against each other a little, like… frotting—" he interrupted, as if he were embarrassed to say it out loud.

"Sure," I murmured with a slight smile.

Without further hesitation, I leaned down and kissed his neck, my lips brushing against his pale skin.

Unlike my own, both of his glands had been marked before. The scar from the bite, originating from his relationship with Nico years ago, was no longer visible, but as I kissed him, I could feel a subtle, characteristic thickening of the tissue—a faint reminder that he had once been marked during heat.

A moment later, Day had gently pulled back the collar of my shirt and gazed at the smooth skin of my glands, even running his finger over it to search for any markings.

"You… never?" he asked.

I murmured a ‘no’ without taking my lips off his gland, gently teasing it, because I knew it felt good.

For some reason, I was really drawn to his glands today. They were slightly swollen. I had the urge to lick and leave hickeys on them, and at one point, I could've sworn I caught a whiff of his sweet Allure, but it was probably just my imagination.

"Why?" he whispered.

"I've never been with an omega during his heat," I admitted.

Day was quiet for a long time as I caressed his neck, my fingers slipping under his shirt to find his nipple. It was hard, and I started playing with it, while he let out a soft, deep moan of pleasure.

His fingers moved down to my waist, and I felt him unzipping my pants. This was the first time he'd initiated touch like that, seeking more between us. A few seconds later, both our dicks were exposed, and despite the rather obvious size difference, Day managed to wrap his fingers around them in a way that allowed us to rub against each other, getting enough friction to feel good.

What was even more surprising was that, despite our touch being brief and not too intense, my arousal was building incredibly fast—almost as if we’d been passionately making out for minutes on end, lost in a multitude of caresses.

My blood heated up, my veins filling with the intense desire to lie on top of his slim body, push into him, and possess him, not just physically but also mentally, to find myself inside Day, in that garden of shadows, sadness, and pain, and plant new life there, hope, and joy.

Interestingly, I could sense a similar state in Day—a rapidly growing arousal, almost overwhelming hunger to be penetrated, impaled, his free hand clasped my back, his nails scratching lightly.

And we hadn't even done that much, I'd just touched his nipples and kissed his neck, while he'd rubbed our dicks together. It was pretty basic—a minimal plan, freshman-year stuff, but it turned out to be more than enough. I was quickly approaching the finish line, my arousal seemingly linked to his, as we were both speeding up toward the peak, like on a wild rollercoaster.

A few more movements, a few more pinches of his nipple, a few more sweet moans from Day, and I felt an ecstatic wave wash over me, and at the same time, over him.

We both let out low, groaning sounds; then the wetness spread on my lower abdomen… I raised my head and looked into his eyes.

His cheeks were flushed, and his lips, with their appealing sweet shape and deep pink color, were slightly parted, making them all the more enticing.

For the first time during our intimate interactions, Day had his eyes open all the time, and I could gaze into them intently.

"That was fast, I haven't come that quickly since I was a teenager," I muttered with some embarrassment.

Day chuckled softly. "Well, you're twenty-six, but I'm older, and it's still happening to me just as fast. I guess it's all those years of celibacy."

I made no comment, just laid my head on his shoulder, and we rested like that in silence.

It was strange—and definitely growing—there were more and more moments when it felt like I could almost read his thoughts. Day seemed to be wrestling with something, some doubt gnawing at him. Suddenly, he cleared his throat and said hesitantly, "I forgot to take my suppressants yesterday."

Again, I didn't know how to respond. Suppressants were his idea, part of the conditions he'd insisted on when we got married.

"You haven’t started taking suppressants yet, have you?" he asked slowly, though there wasn’t any discontent in his tone.

I shook my head and murmured, "Not to make excuses or anything, but according to the contract, I have the whole first month to start with that."

"I’m not saying this to scold you. Honestly, it might even be a good thing you didn’t rush it. It takes two or three days to fully clear suppressants from your system, and since I forgot yesterday, it’s been twenty-four hours. But… I’ve been noticing something strange. Like, on the edge of my perception, I think I can almost sense a faint scent. I can’t quite catch it, but it’s… tempting. It’s pulling me in."

I froze, and our eyes met. "I’ve been experiencing the exact same thing! Today, I had this weird urge to—to lick your glands. Like I could smell this sweet, alluring scent, but I kept telling myself it was just in my head. But if you really didn’t take your pill yesterday, then it’s already been almost two days. Some kind of effect could definitely be kicking in."

We stared at each other intensely.

"Sweet? You like it?" he whispered, disbelief tinging his voice.

To be sure, I leaned closer to his gland, pressed my nose against it, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to catch even the faintest hint of his scent. And there it struck me again—that barely-present sweetness, maybe even violet-like, elusive yet so enticing. It was like spotting a distant oasis you desperately wanted to reach, only for it to slip farther away.

"It feels… like I can’t quite grasp it, but I really want to. Like something heavenly, just out of reach," I murmured.

In response, Day brought his lips close to my gland and took a deep breath, too.

"The note is still so faint, but yes, it’s tempting, very… tantalizing."

We stared at each other again, the intensity thick between us.

"You know," Day began hesitantly, "sometimes I feel like I can read your emotions. It’s different from with other people, where I just observe their expressions or body language. With you, it’s like I perceive you through my entire nervous system."

I blinked, taken aback. "Seriously? I feel the same way! I thought I was going crazy, knowing your thoughts like this. It’s so weird."

We both fell silent for a while, lost in thought.

Finally, Day stammered, "Do you think I should stop taking suppressants? Should we really take that risk? You know what could happen if we turn out to be incompatible?"

I winced slightly. "For many reasons, I don't think that's likely. Something tells me we should take a chance. If tomorrow we both notice that the stronger scent doesn't feel right, you can just go back on them, and I'll start with my doses too. But… if this is what I'm beginning to suspect, then maybe it's worth a try."

There was a trace of uncertainty in Day’s expression, the way his face tightened as he debated whether my suggestion was downright reckless. But after a moment, he nodded.

"Okay, let’s try for just one more day."

We lay there in bed for a long time, both quiet, lost in our thoughts. I could tell Day couldn’t settle down—his mind was filled with worry.

"I'm scared to start believing in something neither of us dares to say out loud," he admitted. "I haven’t even let myself think it through. I keep pushing it aside."

"Then don’t think about it," I said. "Just take it slow. Close your eyes, breathe, and let things unfold. We’ll figure it out when the time’s right."

He nodded and snuggled closer to my side.

Falling asleep with Day next to me felt so comforting, like being exactly where I was meant to be.

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