A month and a half. It had been 47 days to be exact since the current he carried like skin convinced me to drift into him — into us. 47 mornings when I woke up steady. 46 nights where I let myself believe surrender could be a form of strength if I renamed it devotion. Now the silence that now surrounds me in this building swallows me whole. No cleaning staff. No security detail. No chauffeured car waiting out front. Just me, my keys, two sleepy boys, and the life I've always known — the one I bled for.
Zarian curled into the couch without a sound. Malik followed, thumb in his mouth, clinging to my blouse until sleep finally took him. They'd done this before — too many times. Had bedtime in my office, with flickering after-hours lights as their night light. Mommy’s purse doubling as a pi
