115

It had been an entire month since I last heard from Xavier, and the worry gnawed at me constantly. Every day, I cried myself to sleep, the emptiness in my heart growing with each passing hour. I couldn’t help but think about him, about where he was and what he might be going through.

But there was one thing that kept me going—the certainty that he was still alive. If he weren’t, I would have felt it deep inside me. That was the one thing mates shared, a connection that transcended distance and time. It was that bond that reassured me, even in the darkest moments, that Xavier was out there somewhere, fighting to return to us.

Yet, despite that fragile hope, I was falling apart. In Grandma and Mom’s words, I looked terrible. My skin had paled, and the bags under my eyes were dark and heavy from countless sleepless nights. My clothes barely fit, and I’d stopped caring about my appearance long ago. The weight of uncertainty was crushing.

As much as I tried to stay positive, the constant