The sun crept through the hotel curtains like it was trying to expose us.
A thin beam of light fell across his bare chest, warm and golden, touching the body of the man who should have been waking up next to someone else.
I stared at the ceiling, my legs still tangled in the sheets that smelled like him, my skin marked with fingerprints that didn’t belong to me anymore. He shifted beside me, one arm lazily thrown across my stomach, his breath warm against my neck.
He looked peaceful. Like the night hadn’t been a betrayal. Like tomorrow didn’t exist.
I turned my head slowly. His hair was a little messy, his lips still faintly swollen from the way he kissed me over and over until I couldn’t tell where guilt ended and hunger began. He wasn’t supposed to look at me like that. Not now. Not
