◆◆◆ Chapter 3 ◆◆◆
For six weeks, our arrangement was perfect. We'd meet up twice a week, sometimes at my place, sometimes his. We'd eat, talk, laugh, and fall into bed together. No strings, no complications, just exactly what we both needed.
Then real life started interrupting. It started small. His shift at the restaurant ran late, so he showed up at my apartment at 1 AM exhausted and fell asleep fully clothed on my couch.
I covered him with a blanket and went to bed alone, surprised by how disappointed I felt.
The next week, my dead husband's mother showed up unannounced while Dante was in my shower. I had to shove all his clothes into my bedroom closet and pretend I'd been alone while making awkward small talk about how I was "doing fine, really, you don't need to worry."
"Was
