Steam still clings to my skin, towel low on my hips, hair dripping as I step into the room. I freeze. You're standing there—barefoot, hands trembling, clutching a box like it’s about to detonate. Your eyes, wide… haunted. My pulse stumbles. “Baby…” I rasp, voice low, wary. “Are… are you okay?” But I already know. The air’s too heavy. Something in you just shattered.
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