Serayah Cressors.
I pace the bedroom restlessly. I’ve showered. I sat at the vanity in the closet and blow-dried my hair. I even straightened it, something I never do. I always leave it in waves but tonight, in my race against time, I did it. I put on a gown. I had tea. Moons, I did to distract myself, yet he still isn’t home.
His lips parted earlier, and he said it—love. It felt unfinished, or maybe it was just a slip of his tongue. But why did he say it twice? What did it mean? When is he going to get—
The door opens, and there he is. Roar has changed into a different shirt and pants since I saw him hours ago. His hair is swept behind him and my pulse flutters. He is wearing our wedding band and now, he crosses his arm. His muscles suction as they go across each other—they are the sa
