“You and me,” I parrot.

A beat passes. Then another. And even though I can’t touch her, I swear I feel her.

We’re in this together. We’re solid. And that’s all that matters.

The conversation slows, settling into something quieter, heavier. Neither of us wants to say it, but it’s late for her. And she’s exhausted. I see it in her slow blinks, in the way her voice softens into something barely there.

“You’re exhausted, babe.” She frowns, like she wants to argue, but I don’t let her. “I don’t want to let you go, but you need your rest.”

She sighs, the sound soft and reluctant. “Yeah. I’ve got to go back to work tomorrow.”

I hate the reminder. That she’s slipping back into her old life. That tomorrow will be the start of a new normal—one where I’m not beside her.

I shift onto my side, my voice quieter now. “Get some sleep.”

She gives me a sleepy, heart-tugging smile. “Goodnight, big guy. I love you.”

“I love you too, favorite. Sweet dreams.”

Her lips curve, soft and tired. “Goodnight, big guy. I love you.”

I smile even though the sun’s high overhead on my side of the world, hot against the windows.

“I love you too, favorite. Sleep sweet.”

A whisper of breath. A blink. Then—darkness.

She’s ending her night, and I’m barely halfway through my day. Time for meetings and obligations and pretending I’m fine. But part of me is there with her across oceans and time zones.

Chapter 3

Magnolia Steel

The glass doors of Soul Sync glide open, and I step inside, my heels tapping out a quick, impatient rhythm against the freshly waxed floor. The office is exactly the same—bright, modern, and buzzing with quiet energy—but something is different.

It’s me.

I should feel excited to be back at Soul Sync. I should be ready to dive into work, to pick up where I left off before Sydney. But I sense a disconnection that wasn’t there before, a strange heaviness in my chest that I can’t quite shake.

Familiar faces greet me as I make my way to my office. Smiles, nods, welcome backs. I return them all, but it seems like I’m moving through a fog, present but not fully here.

When I push open my office door, I stop short. A welcome-back banner decorates the space, and bright pink, yellow, and orange balloons hover near the ceiling, perfectly matching the bouquet on my desk. Someone did an excellent job coordinating.

I set my bag down and reach for the card nestled among the blooms.

Welcome back, Mags! Work has been straight-ass dull without you. It was up to me to liven up the place. You’re welcome.

—Violet

A small smile tugs at my lips. Of course, this was her doing.

“Wow, Sophie. Look at this.”