The Willow Creek Summer Festival was officially over, and the town felt strangely subdued the next morning. The square was mostly cleared — booths dismantled, fairy lights packed away, the stage bare again. Only a few lingering decorations and the faint scent of popcorn remained as reminders of the magic that had filled the air just hours earlier. Life was returning to its normal small-town rhythm, but for me, nothing felt normal anymore.
I woke in Elias’s bed once more, my body still humming from the way he had loved me the night before. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, his hand splayed possessively across my stomach. He wasn’t asleep. His thumb traced slow, clingy circles on my skin, as if he could hold the future in place by touch alone.
“Morning, love,” he murmured, pressing
