Ella woke up with the taste of last night’s tears still in her mouth. Her eyes were gritty, the skin around them tight and sore. The bed felt too big and too empty even though Alex was still in it, on his side, back to her, breathing slow and even like he’d finally fallen asleep sometime after dawn. She didn’t know when, she hadn’t slept much either. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the way his hand had frozen above her skin, the way his voice had cracked when he said “I can’t,” the way he’d rolled away like touching her any longer would burn him.
She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could. The floor was cold under her bare feet. She grabbed her robe from the chair, pulled it on, and padded to the bathroom without looking back at him.
The mirror was unforgiving. Puffy eyes, pal
