Rory lay on her side, staring into the darkness. The soft hum of the city outside their window was the only sound, a distant reminder of the world still moving on. Sam's breathing was steady but shallow, not quite the rhythm of sleep. He was awake too, she realized.
The silence between them stretched, taut and fragile.
"Rory," Sam's voice came quietly, breaking the void. It was barely more than a whisper, as though he feared speaking too loudly might shatter what little remained of their connection.
She didn’t respond, her body stiffening instinctively.
After a moment, he tried again, his words tinged with a mix of exhaustion and yearning. "I don’t know how to fix this if you won’t talk to me."
Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone, but she didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t even ……
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