Oh God, this feels good.
His body, shining with sweat. His blue-green eyes dilated and dark, crazed. My hands running the length of his back, my fingers digging into his skin and into his hair. His blonde hair falling over his eyes, sticking to his forehead.
Wait. What?
Ocean eyes are replaced with brown ones. Calloused fingertips are replaced with soft hands that have never worked a day outside of an office. Blonde hair replaces Ryan’s chestnut fade, and my body is replaced with hers.
I’m no longer here. I’m standing in the doorway, reliving the worst day of my life. Him inside of her while on our bed. The way she cried his name—the name that belonged to me. His pace, his tempo, how lost he was in the moment that he didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t see me standing there watch
