The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open to the ground floor of Sara’s fancy tower building. I stepped out, my legs heavy, and the morning air hit full force—crisp and cool, carrying the faint sll of grass and city streets.
The sunlight was bright, almost too bright, glaring off the glass windows around and making squint.
"Ahhm..." I groaned, my head spinning, dizzy from everything that had gone down with Sara.
My body ached in places I didn’t even know could ache, and my mind was a foggy ss, replaying her moans, her hands, her wild grin.
I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out my phone to check the ti. The screen lit up—11 a.m.—and my stomach dropped when I saw the notifications: two missed calls and a ssage from Aeri. *When will you be ho?* it read, simple and innocent, but it hit like a punch.
"Oh shit!" I muttered, freezing mid-step on the sidewalk. My heart kicked into gear, and I broke into a run, my white sneakers against the ground as I ran toward train station then to ho.
The city went past —cars honking, people chatting on their way to work, the sll of coffee drifting from a nearby café. My black t-shirt and shirt clung to my back, sweaty from the rush, and my jeans felt too tight, like they were holding back.
About an hour later, I stumbled up to our house, my chest heaving as I jamd my key into the lock.
*Clack.* The door swung open, and I stepped inside, the familiar sll of ho—clean laundry and spices—washing over .
"I’m ho," I called out, my voice rough, half-expecting Aeri to chop into pieces the second I walked in.
"Welco back, Ezra," she said from the kitchen, her tone calm and easy, like nothing was wrong.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight, and kicked off my shoes by the door. I walked toward the kitchen, my steps slow.
Aeri stood at the counter, and damn, she looked sexy as ever. She was wearing a blue mini dress, short, hugging her curves in a way that made my brain stutter.
Her dark hair was tied up in a ssy bun, a few strands falling loose as she stirred sothing on the stove, the air thick with the warm, spicy sll of biryani.
"Umm... Aeri, what are you making?" I asked, my voice hesitating.
She turned, wiping her hands on a towel, and smiled. "Oh, I’m making biryani for lunch. Slls good, right? And breakfast is on the table—pancakes and fruit. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?" Her tone was light, curious, like she was just happy to see .
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "N-no... I’ll eat now."
"Good!" she said, her face lighting up. "Let’s eat together then. I was waiting for you, you know."
She giggled, a soft, cheerful sound that made my chest ache with relief and guilt all at once. She looked so happy, so normal, and here I was, carrying the weight of last night like a secret I didn’t know how to hide.
"Okay," I said, managing a real smile this ti. "I’ll get freshened up first." I pointed toward the bathroom.
"Don’t take too long," she called after , turning back to the stove. "Pancakes are best when they’re warm!"
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see , and headed down the hall. The bathroom door clicked shut behind , and I leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The mirror showed a guy who looked like he’d been through a war—hair ssy, eyes tired, black shirt wrinkled from running. I splashed cold water on my face, the shock of it snapping back a little, and tried to shove Sara out of my head.
Aeri was here, cooking for , smiling like nothing had changed. I had to get it together—for her, for us. But as I dried my hands and headed back out, the weight of last night lingered, heavy and stubborn, and I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it buried.
The bathroom’s cold water had done its job, waking up enough to shake off so of the haze from last night. I changed into a fresh black t-shirt and black pants, the clean cotton feeling good against my skin after the sweaty ss I’d been earlier.
The sll of pancakes and coffee pulled back to the kitchen, where Aeri had already set the dining table.
Aeri was already there, looking like a dream in her blue one-piece dress, the kind that hugged her curves and stopped way above her knees. The neckline dipped low, showing off her cleavage, and her thighs were bare, smooth under the table’s edge.
I sat down next to her, my heart doing a little flip as I thought, *I love her so much.* It wasn’t just how she looked—though, damn, that didn’t hurt—it was her, all of her, the way she made everything feel right.
"Here, dig in!" she said, her voice bright as she scooped a couple of pancakes onto my plate, adding a handful of strawberries with a grin. "I made these just for you, you know."
"Thanks," I said, smiling back, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it over the stack. "Looks amazing, Aeri."
I reached for the jar of water, pouring so into her cup before filling mine, my arm brushing close to her as I leaned over.
She flashed another smile, picking up her fork for a second and then stopped abruptly when a familiar scent reached her nose, leaning closer to grab a strawberry from the bowl, and her nose brushed near my shirt.
She paused, inhaling, her brow furrowing just a bit. "You wearing... a different type of perfu today?" she asked, her voice curious but sharp around the edges. She sniffed again, her eyes closing for a second, then they snapped open, locking onto mine.
"This sll... it’s the sa as Sara always wears."
The air went heavy, like soone had sucked it out of the room. My fork froze halfway to my mouth, and I felt my stomach twist. "Uh... what?"
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