Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Joan rolled freely to the other side of the bed, and slowly, she brought her groggy eyes to open. The early morning Chicago sun poured in through her windows, aggressively spearing her eyes that were still barely awake.

She groaned into the pillow, her arms raising in the air as she stretched. The birds chirped by her windows and the leaves of the close evergreen trees rustled with the breeze. She was always at peace with nature, so she’d rather wake up to this than a blaring alarm, even though it was just the morning after a long weekend.

Her eyelids were heavy and for a moment, her thoughts confused but she did remember his face as the last thing she saw before closing her eyes—actually no, it might have been the cartoon on the television. But that would have meant Ivan carried her into the bedroom, where she now found herself.

She sat up with disappointment clearing her eyes.

And her hands grazed the empty portion of the bed right next to her—she expected to see him, but he was go