The weekend arrived like a heavy, humid wave, thick with the promise of a storm that refused to break. Saturday morning was bright and deceptively cheerful, the kind of day that mocked the dark, twisting knots in my stomach. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, staring at the dark circles under my eyes. A week of sleeping in three hour increments and vibrating with unmet desire had taken its toll on my sanity. I looked like a woman on the edge of a breakdown, or perhaps just a woman who was ready to be pushed over one by the two men living down the hall.
Downstairs, the house was buzzing with a forced, artificial domesticity that made my skin crawl. Mom had decided that after a week of nonstop working, we all needed a day by the private infinity pool. She was buzzing around the kitchen,
