This home was too loud, too crowded, too foreign. I retreated to where we had detoured from.
The path to his room. Our room now. Once I stood in front of the same staircase on the left, I climbed each step eagerly to get out of the black, sleeved dress and find solace in an empty room.
A long hallway displayed three doors. The last one stood before me at the end. The master bedroom. I opened the door, and his scent hit my face.
Possessive, powerful, and cruel with a hint of smoke.
Asphyxiating.
And yet, I inhaled its danger. Allowing the sick part of me to long for what it craves.
Want.
I closed my eyes, accepting my fault, but the second I opened them, it had become a distant memory.
Instead, I focused on the layout of the bedroom. Like his scent, the black and brown tones of the
