Vanessa
I couldn’t believe it.
I sat on the couch, my head in my hands, the taste of Derek’s kiss still burning on my lips.
Guilt filled me. Robyn was upstairs, sleeping, trusting me– her mother, and I’d crossed a line with her fiancé. It was a mistake, fueled by wine and a loneliness I hadn’t admitted to myself, I thought to myself. Tomorrow, I’d keep my distance, act normal, and bury this before it went further.
But as I dragged myself to bed, the memory of his hands, his hardness, the kiss, kept me awake, spelling trouble.
Morning came, my head pounding from the wine, too little sleep, and too much guilt. I rubbed my face, my actions clearer in the daylight. I was 42, not some reckless kid. I had to end this. Robyn deserved better.
I threw on a loose sweater and leggings, splashed
