The penthouse was still dark when she woke up the next morning. She laid in the guest room bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, the echo of Henry’s words from the night before replaying in her head like a loop she couldn’t pause.

I’m in love with you, Andie.

Her chest tightened. Warmth flooded through her, followed immediately by the familiar, suffocating wave of fear. She could still feel the ghost of his hand on her cheek, the sincerity in his voice. But the fear was louder.

What if I let myself fall again and he changes? What if his mother is right and I’m not enough...