Amara was restless. She couldn’t even do any chores. The laundry was dirty, the kitchen was a mess, and even her room was unkempt. It took everything in her not to get under the warmth of blankets and sleep in. Cause the more she stayed awake, the deeper her thoughts were taking her. Ever since Rhys left, she sat alone in the dimly lit living room, the curtains draped over the window—she didn’t even know if it was still a day or the night was ascending. The silence echoed the turmoil within her. The subtle hum of the clock on the wall seemed to mock the chaotic rhythm of her thoughts. As she traced absent patterns on the armrest of the couch, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Her fingers brushed over the petals of Peonies, the velvety texture felt soft against her skin, and the sweet and delicate fragrance, not overpowering but rather a soft lingering aroma that reminded her of Rhys.The way his fingers traced the length of her neck, the way his lips moulded her in a fierce heate
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