Ethan's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
He stared at them, fingers still damp from the shower he'd taken in a daze, scrubbing his skin raw as if he could wash away the phantom sensation of her. But the water had long since run cold, and the memory of Rose—her gasps, her moans, the way she'd arched—clung to him like a second skin.
Impossible.
And yet.
His phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with another failed message. He'd lost count of how many he'd sent into the void, each one a desperate plea for answers.
Ethan: What the fuck was that?
Ethan: If you can hear me—if you're real—say something.
Ethan: Rose.
The last one lingered on the screen, the letters sharp and accusing. He half-expected a response, half-expected the screen to crack under the weight of his frustration. But there was nothing. Just the same mocking silence.
He exhaled through his teeth and grabbed the phone, thumb hovering over the call button. He didn't even have her number. Didn't even know if she existed.
But he'd felt her.
That wasn't something he could unfeel.
Rose wasn't sleeping.
She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her body still humming with the aftershocks of—whatever that had been. Her fingers traced idle patterns over her stomach, her skin hypersensitive, like every nerve ending had been rewired.
Ethan.
She rolled the name around in her mind, testing its weight. It felt familiar, like a word she'd known in another life. But that was insane. She'd never met anyone named Ethan. Never dreamed of anyone who made her feel like that with just the sound of his voice.
And yet.
Her phone sat untouched on the nightstand. She hadn't checked it since—well, since before. Part of her was afraid to. Afraid she'd pick it up and find a message from some stranger named Ethan, confirming that she wasn't losing her mind.
The other part of her was afraid she wouldn't.
With a shaky breath, she reached for it.
The screen lit up, notifications flooding in—emails, social media updates, nothing unusual. Nothing from him.
Her stomach dropped.
Of course not. Because that would make sense.
She was about to toss it aside when a new notification popped up.
Unknown Number: Did you feel that too?
Rose's breath caught.
Her fingers trembled as she tapped the screen.
Rose: Who is this?
The reply came instantly.
Unknown Number: Ethan.
A beat. Then—
Ethan: You know who I am.
Rose's pulse roared in her ears.
Because she did.
She did.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.
Rose: How is this happening?
A pause. Then—
Ethan: I don't know. But I'm not letting go.
Rose swallowed hard.
Neither was she.