The next few days felt like floating. I woke up in Damien's bed every morning with his arm slung over me like it belonged there. He would kiss my shoulder, murmur something sleepy and filthy, then roll out of bed to make coffee while I pretended to stay asleep a little longer just to watch move around the kitchen shirtless.
I still went to the diner. Not ever shift, but enough to feel like I hadn't completely lost myself. Mike had already gotten the memo, new owner, new rules, no more late closes for me. Sofia kept teasing me mercilessly, calling me “Mrs Blackwood” every time I walked in. I'd flip her off, she would laugh. It was the only thing that still felt like my old life.
That afternoon I was wiping down the counter after the lunch rush when the bell above the door jingle.
I didn'
