Suffice it to say, after that incident last night, I had one of the best sleeps in my life.
And yet, waking up felt like slamming into a brick wall of reality. My brain, still sluggish, struggled to piece together the events of the previous night.
Rachel.
The Rachel I knew—bubbly, bright, full of warmth but always keeping a careful distance—had flipped a switch.
The way she had acted, the way she had looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, the way she had kissed me like she was staking a claim—none of it aligned with the Rachel from the novel or even the Rachel I had come to know in this world.
I ran a hand down my face, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
'Did that really happen?' I thought.
Because it felt like a dream, one of those strange ones that made perfect sense when you were in it but left you bewildered when you woke up.
