DAHLIA'S POV I wake up with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat as a scream tears through the silence. My heart pounds wildly against my ribs as I sit up, disoriented, my ears ringing… then I realize the space beside me is empty. Jerome isn’t in bed. Panic grips me instantly. I throw the covers off and rush out of the room, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor as I follow the sound of his voice. He’s cursing loudly, the kind of raw, frustrated anger that makes my chest tighten. “Babe, oh my God!” I cry, rushing into the kitchen just in time to see him struggling on the floor, his wheelchair slightly out of reach. I drop to my knees beside him, trying to lift him back up. “Hold on, I’ve got you…” “Don’t touch me! Damn it!” he snaps, shoving me hard enough that I almost lose my balance. The force of it stings more than it should. Before I can steady myself, he sweeps everything off the kitchen counter in one violent motion. Plates shatter. A cup rolls across the floor a
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