Albert
Emon didn't say anything to me. He didn't shout, didn't curse, didn't ask me to leave. I cried myself to sleep.
~~~
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon greets me before my eyes fully open.
For a moment, I pretend I don’t know where I am. I let the softness of the sheets wrap around me like a lie, one that tells me everything’s okay, that my world isn’t spinning, that I didn’t betray the man who hums gently in the kitchen just a few feet away.
I turn my face into the pillow and exhale.
I should feel better after a night of warmth, after the bath Emon drew for me, the silence he held me in, the way he combed his fingers through my hair while I trembled in the water. I should feel something, peace, regret, release, but all I feel is… hollow. And haunted.
My fingers drift toward th
