LORI
I stumbled out of bed like I wasn’t even in my body.
My legs were sore and shaky, and my head felt stuffed with cotton. My hands trembled as I grabbed at my clothes, pulling them from the floor one by one. My jeans were inside out, my underwear was missing for a full thirty seconds, and my shirt had this stupid wrinkle across the middle that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I tried to smooth it.
It didn’t matter.
I was too busy trying not to cry.
I tugged my bra on—still damp from last night—and my arms got caught in the straps. I cursed under my breath, yanked it around, shoved it into place. My chest felt too tight. My throat burned.
I looked over at the bed.
The sheets were a mess. The pillow he used had an indent in it. The blanket still smelled like him—like forest air
