The penthouse had never felt so big, or so empty.
Alex had moved most of his things into the guest room on the far side of the apartment. Not because he wanted to be far from her, because he needed to be. Every time he walked past her door now, he had to clench his fists to keep from knocking. Every time he heard her moving around in the kitchen, he had to force himself to stay in his room. He told himself it was for her safety. That he was doing the right thing by staying away. That the man who’d pinned her against a wall in a drunken rage didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.
He was trying to believe it.
He wasn’t succeeding.
It had been nine days since that night.
Nine days of short nods when they passed each other in the hallway.
Nine days of her making coffee and leavin
