NOLA
I wake up before the sun rises.
For a second I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the house. Rhett is somewhere down the hall, or maybe still asleep, or maybe awake and thinking.
I don’t check.
I shower, dress slowly, black trousers, fitted blouse, lip gloss. I let my hair fall loose over my shoulders. Not for him. For myself.
If we are nothing, then I move like I owe no one explanations.
I grab my bag and leave without a word.
At work, I try to focus, but my mind keeps circling back to last night. The way he admitted he was jealous, the way he didn’t deny it the way his hand felt on my waist.
“You’re typing like someone who’s possessed,” Tessa says, leaning against my desk.
“I’m working.”
“You’ve rewritten that sentence three times.”
I si
