I wake up to sunlight coming through the curtains and the shower running next door.
Cain’s shower.
I lie there and stare at the ceiling and listen to the water and try not to picture anything, and fail completely. I roll over. The watch is on my nightstand, sitting there in the morning light like an accusation. I pick it up and shove it in my drawer and get dressed before I can think too hard about any of it.
The kitchen smells like bacon and coffee and my mother’s perfume, which means she’s been up for a while and is in one of her good moods, the kind where she hums while she cooks and the whole house feels like a different place than it actually is.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” She turns from the stove with a smile that is so genuine it makes my chest hurt. “Sit. I made breakfast.”
M
