Amy’s POV
The air around them was heavy, quiet except for the faint hum of the night. Evan’s words still echoed in her chest—Start where it hurts the most.
Amy swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions steady, but her body refused to listen. Her heart was racing, pounding so hard it felt like it might tear through her chest.
Evan was still standing close, his eyes fixed on her face. There was something in his gaze that made her pulse skip—something dangerous and gentle at the same time.
“Evan…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
He looked down at her, jaw tight, his hand half-raised like he was fighting himself. “I can’t stand seeing you cry like this, Amy.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though the tremor in her tone betrayed her.
“No, you’re not,” he said, stepping closer.
