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I tried to shift, but my body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Every muscle screamed
from my own bedroom. This was a mix of expensive cologne, something sharp and w
was in a massive king-sized bed in a hotel suite I didn't re
ade me gasp and fall back against the pillows. It was a
mmered agai
d. And on the pale skin of my inner thighs, there were small, dark r
mind was a fog, a blur
g me a glass of champagne. The bubbles tickling my nose. Then..
his heavy breathing in my ear. His burning Adam's apple brushed against my cheek. I instinctively tried
ntering my body. As if responding to me, he pushed harder, like som
n't a
ed for two years, had slept with
y I had saved for Julian, for eight long years since we started dat
I collapsed in front of the toilet, my body heaving wi
d mess. My eyes were puffy. And scattered across my neck and collarbones
ack streamed silently down my face
hy wasn't he here?
in my chest. I forced myself to stand
the shoulder and lay discarded on the plus
m Julian. No texts. Just a few "Happy Anniversary"
mber. It rang and rang, and just as
with impatience. In the background, I coul
You had too much to drink," he continued, hi
as lying. That giggle w
call without
ting under the morning light. A cufflink. It wasn't Julian's. It was made of bla
ogo. The memory of that solid, burning body from last
ht solid and real in my trembli
what happene
tel suite. The bright Chicago sun hit me li
address to my bakery, The Rolling Pin.
s to surface. But all I could conjure was a pair of deep, ice-b
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