Bree woke up the next morning, feeling hollowed out and still tired, even after a full night’s sleep.
Her conversation with Cerelia had helped her to understand Dallas’ motives and see things from his point of view a little bit, but it hadn’t reassured her much. She was still smarting from being left alone the day before, and wasn’t exactly eager to forgive Dallas just yet—not while he still hadn’t come to her to apologize himself.
She rolled over in bed, blinking at the ceiling, which was a golden yellow color, the sunlight soft and gentle on the wood. It was pretty, a nice morning to wake in—or it would have been if her emotions hadn’t been so off-kilter.
She felt a little bad for being like this, but she knew that she couldn’t help it. It was best to just let her emotions work their way out, and then she would be fine again.
