The morning shattered my sleep with laughter and chatter echoing from downstairs. My room, once a refuge, couldn’t shield me from the commotion. Last night’s reunion with Rhys and Melissa still lingered—Drew’s culinary masterpiece, our laughter, the whiskey haze. My head throbbed, but the warmth of camaraderie made the hangover bearable.
Curiosity tugged at me. I tossed off the covers and descended into the fray, drawn by the hum of voices.
The living room glowed with familiar faces. Sarah’s radiant smile was the first to greet me.
“There goes the sleepyhead,” she teased.
“Good morning,” I replied, settling beside Rhys. The table was a cozy spread—half-eaten apple pie, steaming coffee. The aroma wrapped around me like a hug.
“Wow, you brought my favorite,” I said, eyeing the pie.
Sar
