Kendrick
The soft hiss of the shower shutting off echoed through the dimly lit room. Steam drifted lazily from the c***k beneath the bathroom door, filling the space with the faint scent of lavender and something warmer… something undeniably her.
I adjusted the cuff of my black dress shirt, pretending I wasn’t standing there, waiting — pretending I wasn’t watching the door like a starved beast waiting for its prey. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with her.
The old grandfather clock in the corner ticked steadily, reminding me that time was slipping away. We were supposed to be downstairs in less than fifteen minutes. My parents would expect us seated at the long mahogany dining table, wearing our masks of composure, playing our parts in this grand, endless game of deception.
I hear
