FIONA
Time was a funny, fickle thing. It did not always announce the changes it was making before it made them. But more often than not though, it chose to slip silently by, one day sliding into the next, like water dripping from a broken flask, changing nothing at all.
Until the moment that it did.
It had been weeks since Ethan’s birthday.
Weeks since I had woken in his bed and he made me climax so hard I had seen stars.
Weeks of me alternating between telling myself in the mornings that he was right to end things before they even started and then dreaming of his hands on my body at night. It was like a slow descent into madness and the only thing that kept me from screaming was work.
My wrist had long since healed, thank the goddess and I was back to being under the guidance of
