Chapter 45

Amelia

I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling and counting the crystals on my chandelier for the tenth time since morning. Despite waking up hours ago, I lack the motivation to get out of bed, feeling utterly drained before even starting my day. Maybe it’s because what happened last night knocked some reality into me and has me pondering over them.

My hand drifts unconsciously to my neck, the memory of what transpired replaying in my mind. The bruise from Nickolas’s grip has likely faded by now, but the sting of his actions lingers.

I berate myself for my foolishness, for daring to touch him despite knowing how rigid he is about personal boundaries. It was foolish of me to reach out to him to inquire about his troubles. Even if he hadn’t reacted violently, I doubt he would have confided in me. I’m such a fool at times, but I can’t entirely blame myself.

The sight of him, reeking of alcohol with a bleeding hand, stirred something within me—a despe