Vivian went home at 2 AM.
Her legs barely worked. She had to grip the wall in his private elevator, her knees threatening to buckle with every breath. The mirrored walls showed her reflection—hair wild and tangled, mascara smeared, lips swollen from kissing, a dreamy expression on her face that she didn’t recognize as her own.
Had to lean against the Uber’s door for the entire ride home, watching the city lights blur past without really seeing them. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror a few times, probably wondering if she was drunk or high or both. She wasn’t. She was just… wrecked. Destroyed in the best possible way.
Had to hold the railing as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, her thighs trembling with each step. Every movement reminded her of what they’d done. Eve
