Tiana
As soon as I returned, I stripped off the clothes I was wearing and, without showering, changed into the first nightgown I stumbled on.
It was a thin cotton fabric, barely reaching me mid-thigh, with delicate straps that kept slipping off my shoulders.
I collapsed face-first onto the bed, too exhausted to even pull back the covers.
My body sank into the mattress, and I let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in my chest for hours. My face pressed into the pillow and my legs sprawled apart, one knee bent slightly because that’s just how I landed.
I should move. Should at least cover myself properly.
But I was so tired.
Tired from moving those steps. Tired of pretending and trying to fit into a role no one actually wanted me to fill. Tired of being looked at like I
