#Chapter 36: The Threshold

I kept expecting to hear the knock. Even after I’d showered, changed into something soft, and stared at my board for twenty straight minutes pretending to read. I expected it like I expected morning—quiet and inevitable. But it never came. Not at midnight, not at one. Not even when I left my door slightly open, just in case. I told myself he probably couldn’t. That he wasn't in his room, or he got caught in a late briefing. Or maybe he was being good. Careful. Distant. But none of that changed the way my body responded just thinking about him. The way his voice had dipped when he said good night. The way he’d looked at me like the door between us wasn’t the only thing he wanted to cross. I didn’t sleep. I laid there too warm, too wired, turned on and turned over. Every sound in the hallway made my heart lurch and then sink again. By morning, I hated myself a little for it. I pulled my hair back tight, splashed cold water on my face until my skin tingled, and buttoned up a