The heart doesn’t listen to reason—it just aches.

—-

Martin’s POV

The morning air still carried the scent of roasted coffee and warm maple syrup, a sugary trail that clung to my clothes. I’d barely taken two steps out of the café when I saw her.

Lily.

She walked alone, her steps too light for someone awake to the world. Her gaze was distant, fixed on something far past the buildings and people. Her mouth was drawn, lips slightly parted like she’d forgotten how to hold them closed.

Still. Too still—like porcelain right before it cracks.

My breath caught. I didn’t move. I never do when she’s like this.

I...