CHAPTER 1:FIRST TASTE OF A WOMAN
CLAIRE’S POV
The 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 the couch dip, and then her warmth was right there.
Her scentwrapped around me before her arms did.
“Oh, honey,” she murmured, her voice so soft it almost broke me all over again.
That
