*Max*
I drift in and out of sleep, the couch’s fabric scratching against my cheek, a rough reminder of my reality. The dim light of dawn seeps through the curtains, but I can’t escape the heavy weight in my chest. My dreams are fragmented memories of a life that feels increasingly out of reach. I’m pulled back to consciousness by the sound of the front door creaking open, the familiar sound piercing the veil of my restless slumber.
I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and the moment I catch sight of Pamela, my stomach twists. Her hair is tousled, eyes glassy, and I know without a doubt where she’s been. It’s not just the smell of cheap aftershave that clings to her; it’s the way she walks, the confidence that radiates from her as if she’s just conquered something. This is it, I’ve had enough.
“Ma
