Thor climbed the stairs in silence. Each step echoed down the hallway like a reminder of everything that had happened—and everything still to come.

When he reached the bedroom, he found Celina already asleep, wrapped in white sheets, her face serene under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

He stood in the doorway, watching her.

His chest tightened. The need to lie beside her, to forget everything and simply feel… was almost unbearable. But he couldn’t. Not like this.

Slowly, he removed his shoes. Then, piece by piece, he undressed, as though shedding more than just fabric.

He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Hot water poured down the back of his neck, across his shoulders, and along his spine. Lowering his head, he braced his hands against the cool tile wall.

He stood there, motionless, fighting to quiet the chaos in his mind, the ache in his chest.

And then—he felt it.

Two hands rested softly against his back. He didn’t turn, but his eyes closed at the recognition