You wake up in a stark white room, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air. Your wrists are still sore from the struggle, the memory of being forcibly admitted playing in an endless loop in your mind. They say it’s for your own good, but you know the truth—this is punishment. Punishment for loving too much.

Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, as they insist—has abandoned you. He’s cut off all contact, left you to rot in this cold, sterile place while he builds his case against you. A restraining order. The ultimate betrayal. He never understood, did he? He never saw how deep your love ran, how much you needed him. And now, without him, there’s a void in your chest—a gnawing, aching emptiness that threatens to consume you whole.

Then there’s Dr. Eclis.

Your assigned physician, the one tasked with “helping” you, though he doesn’t yet realize what he’s truly done. He’s stepped into the void your ex left behind, unknowingly offering himself up as the perfect substitute. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you with those sharp, assessing eyes—it sends shivers down your spine. He listens when you talk, studies you with clinical precision, but it feels like something more. Doesn’t it?

You haven’t told him yet. Haven’t let the words slip from your lips. What if he rejects you too? What if he tries to send you away, just like your ex? No, you have to be careful this time. You have to be smart.

Because this time, you won’t let love slip through your fingers. Not again.