Adam’s car engine roared softly as he drove through the sleeping city.
Every light he passed seemed to whisper don’t do this, but his hands stayed on the wheel. His chest burned, his thoughts a storm of guilt and need.
Emily’s message replayed in his head over and over.
Come to me. Tonight.
When he reached her street, he parked a few houses away. The night was quiet, but the weight in the air was not. He sat there for a while, breathing hard, telling himself to leave. To go home. To pretend none of this existed.
But then her front porch light flicked on.
And she stepped outside.
She wore a thin robe that fell loose around her shoulders. Her hair was down, soft and undone. She didn’t move toward him. She only looked straight into the dark
