Chapter 69 A Letter In The Saddlebag
Ronan's Pov,
I stood by the window longer than I meant to. The sun was already past the ridge, bleeding color across the trees like spilled wine. Ivy's scent still lingered on my shirt, soft and warm like wild violets crushed in the heat. I hadn't changed. I hadn't moved. My hand was still tingling from where she held it last night, curled beside me like something fragile and breakable.
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