Sam noticed the hesitation in Madison's eyes, and something in his chest stirred. But he forced the feeling down and got to his feet, pretending not to notice.
"I need to handle something," he said, then turned and walked out.
Madison watched Sam leave, his silhouette disappearing into the hallway. A faint sadness flickered in her dark eyes. She could tell that Sam was avoiding her.
Her chest tightened again. She reminded herself that she was alive now, and that meant she still had a chance to win him back.
She repeated that silently, calming herself, then finally drifted into sleep.
…
Madison slept straight through to the evening.
When she woke, her head was still hazy, but the nausea and pain had faded. She pushed herself up and saw Sam sitting on the couch not far away.
A laptop rested on his lap as he typed, his expression focused and sharp. With those clean, refined features, he looked effortlessly captivating.
Madison found herself staring without realizing it. Maybe her gaze was too obvious, because he suddenly paused and looked up.
Their eyes met. Sam noticed the admiration in her eyes and stiffened before asking coolly, "When did you wake up?"
She snapped out of her trance. Meeting his distant expression made her chest sink again.
But Madison knew she had no right to blame Sam. Everything happening now was tied to her past mistakes. She merely forced a small smile. "I just woke up. I didn't want to interrupt while you were working.

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