He was about to ask if this was a dream, but her icy-cold "Get out!" sent a jolt through him.
"I'll sleep."
He answered instinctively, nodding emphatically. "I'll sleep. I'll go to sleep right now. Just don't make me leave..."
'Whether this is a dream or reality, I don't want to leave.'
Holly Sinclair turned and went into the walk-in closet. A moment later, she emerged holding a comforter she'd taken from a cabinet.
She then roughly tossed it onto him.
Tristan Sterling instinctively clutched the comforter, his thin lips moving as if he wanted to say something.
"Either shut up, or get out."
Holly Sinclair uttered flatly.
And just like that, the man obediently clamped his mouth shut.
SLAM!
Holly Sinclair entered the master bedroom, closed the door, and turned off the light.
In the darkness, Tristan Sterling hugged the comforter tightly, his gaze fixed on the master bedroom door.
