Lily Thompson
The night after meeting my mother, I couldn’t sit still.
I tried reading, but the words blurred. I tried writing notes from the documents, but my hand shook too much. I tried lying in bed, but my brain kept spinning, restless and loud, like an engine that refused to shut off.
Every part of me was on edge. My skin felt too tight, my thoughts too sharp. The anger, the grief, the confusion—they all tangled until the only way I knew to quiet them was the same way I always had.
I hadn't decided if I wanted to go after the inheritance yet. I couldn't decide
I just needed a release. I wanted distraction.
I wanted s*x.
And of course, the only person in the house who could give me that was the one man who insisted on holding back.
Ryan.
It was close to midnight when I left
