Chapter 70.

Amelia’s POV

Perhaps because I had thought of him while cooking, I dreamt about Eddie when I was asleep.

It wasn't the sleek, polished Eddie of the present, but the one from just before the cracks began to show in our relationship. The Eddie who still had a sparkle in his eyes, but a flicker of something else had begun to cloud them – ambition, perhaps, or a restlessness that hadn't been there before.

It wasn't the sleek, polished Eddie of the present, but the one from just before the cracks began to show in our relationship. The Eddie who still had a sparkle in his eyes, but a flicker of something else had begun to cloud them – ambition, perhaps, or a restlessness that hadn't been there before.

We were in our tiny apartment, the familiar scent of old books and stale coffee clinging to the air. I sat curled up on the worn sofa, a half-written story sprawled out on my lap. The rhythmic tapping of my pen was the only sound that broke the silence.

The front door creaked open, and I look