SIMONE'S POV
The guest room felt like a colder if not different.
I stood before the mirror, staring at the woman reflected at me. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Her skin still flushed pink from his touch. Her eyes held secrets that would destroy her if anyone knew.
"He still thinks I'm weak," I whispered to my reflection.
The woman in the mirror looked like a stranger. Someone who had given herself completely to a man who called her a mistake before the sheets were even cold.
I stripped off his t-shirt, letting it fall to the marble floor like a discarded promise.
The shower water burned my skin, washing away his scent and the memory of his hands. But it couldn't wash away the way he had turned his face from me afterward.
Like he couldn't bear to look at what
