I should’ve stayed in my room.
I should’ve shut my eyes, buried myself beneath the sheets, and thought about anything—anyone—but her.
But I didn’t.
And now I was standing outside her bedroom door.
It was slightly open, just like before, light spilling out in a soft golden hue that flickered with the scent of red wine and vanilla. I told myself I only came out for water. But my feet had a mind of their own. They’d brought me here.
I took a shaky breath and knocked.
No answer.
Another knock—quieter.
Still nothing.
I should’ve walked away.
But instead, I pushed the door open.
Marianne stood by her window, back turned, robe untied. It hung loose on her shoulders, barely covering the swell of her hips. Her long hair cascaded down her spine, and her skin glowed like it had been dipped
