Louise sat at the kitchen island, wearing nothing but Andy’s oversized white dress shirt, which hung to her mid-thighs. She cradled a mug of steaming tea, watching Andy move around the kitchen. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders, looking less like a billionaire CEO and more like the domestic partner she had always craved but never known.
The sun was just beginning to bleed gray light over the horizon, the prelude to a dawn that would bring with it the start of their war.
"So," Andy said, leaning against the marble counter across from her, crossing his arms. "Let’s review the tactical strike. Operation: Cleveland."
Louise smiled into her tea. "It sounds less like a military operation and more like a punishment for a misdemeanor."
"For
