Chapter 57

EMILIA

Present Time

I wake up with a sharp breath, like I’ve just hit the surface after drowning.

He’s gone again.

My chest rises and falls like I’ve been running, chasing something I can’t have. I don’t scream, even though I want to. The pain sits there, right beneath my ribcage, steady and sharp.

I feel the wetness on my face. My pillow is soaked. I’m not surprised—I don’t even try to wipe the tears away this time. I just lie there in the silence, with my eyes closed letting the ache settle.

Letting the cloud of nostalgia and longing pass so I can finally remember where I am.

Where I’m supposed to be.

But I don’t fall apart.

Not like I used to.

I take a deep breath and put a hand over my chest, like I’m trying to hold myself together. The grief is still there. It probably always will be. But so is something else.

Me.

For a second, I don’t know where I am. I’m still half in the dream—chocolate on our fin