CHAPTER 1:FIRST TASTE OF A WOMAN

CLAIRE’S POVThe apartment smelled like burnt popcorn, a weirdly comforting mix that had been the scent of my sanctuary for the past year. My sanctuary, and Sage’s.

I was curled into a ball on our worn-in couch, drowning in a fleece blanket that couldn't touch the cold emptiness inside me.

My phone had finally gone dark, but the words were burned onto the back of my eyelids:

"We need space. It’s not you, it’s me."

A cliché that somehow made the heartbreak even more humiliating.

I didn’t hear the key in the lock. I didn’t hear Sage kick off her boots. But I felt...