Sherry
The sunlight slipped under the curtains half drawn, but open enough. I lay there and listened and felt, heard the house breathe. A cabinet door closed downstairs, a chair dragged... ordinary sounds of a morning after a long night. I sat up.
The already worn dress from the party rested on the back of the chair, the fabric still crumpled from when I had worn it. The shoes rested in the corner by the door, each one tipped on its side. I pushed the strands of hair out of my eyes and stood. The floor was cool beneath my feet.
Memory returned in pieces.
Adrian’s hand at my waist during the dance. The way he looked at me when he said I had become difficult to ignore. Jax’s voice later, lower, cutting through the music with something that felt less like conversation and more like assess
