Zander Kash
The phantom sensation of Collin’s lips against mine burned like a brand on my skin all night long.
I barely slept two hours, but when the alarm sounded at dawn, I didn't feel the crushing weight of exhaustion that had dragged me down for months. My chest felt open. My mind felt clear. For the first time in four years, the cold, sterile walls of my life had cracked, letting in a sudden, blinding surge of genuine hope. He hadn't just allowed me to touch him; he had pulled me to him. The fire was still there, alive and fighting beneath the ash.
Downstairs in the kitchen, however, that hope collided head-on with an iron wall.
Collin was already at the stove by seven, flipping scrambled eggs with frantic, aggressive precision. When I walked in, his entire frame went rigid.
"Col
