Arthur
The bed feels wrong without Iris in it. Too big, too empty, too cold. Each time I shut my eyes, I’m acutely aware of her absence. The mattress doesn’t dip on her side. The sheets don’t rustle with her movements. Her scent lingers on the pillow, but it’s fading quickly.
I’ve barely slept since she left two days ago. Even exhausted as I am, sleep refuses to come. I roll over, glance at the clock on the nightstand: 2:15 AM. With a groan, I throw the covers aside and sit up, rubbing my face with both hands.
It’s like it was when we were broken up all over again. Sleepless nights without my mate by my side, with only one thing that manages to get me to doze off.
This is ridiculous. I should just go to her—make her understand that this isn’t what I want, that I love only h
