Fragile

Viviana's POV

My skull felt like it had been split in two.

Light stabbed through the curtains, and I groaned, burrowing deeper into the covers. My mouth tasted like regret and stale lime. My stomach rolled in protest.

And then I saw it.

A glass of water and a Tylenol on the bedside table, placed neatly and precisely, like someone knew I’d need it the second I woke.

My chest tightened.

Vincenzo.