LOGIN|| Cale || I walked downstairs and found her lying on the sofa. She was fast asleep, but she had changed into her nightclothes. I couldn’t tell whether she had spent the entire night there or if she’d limped down in the early hours of the morning. It seemed she’d managed to take care of herself; the amateurish bandage from yesterday had been replaced with a cleaner one.As I stood over her, I could see the dark, mottled bruises beginning to bloom along the side of her calf and near her ankle. Seeing the physical proof of her pain made an unwanted pang of guilt twist in my gut. I had been so blinded by my own rage that I hadn’t even checked to see if she was truly hurt.I made a mental note to call a private doctor for a proper check-up later; I might hate her, but I didn’t want her blood—or a permanent injury—on my hands.The doorbell rang, the sound intrusive in the quiet house. I saw her stir, her eyes fluttering open as she winced, her face contorting briefly as she tried to shift
|| Cale || I returned home to the sound of laughter—a man’s voice echoing through my apartment. The sound grated against my nerves like a blade. When I reached the living room, I found Flora sprawled on the sofa. Her leg was propped up on a cushion, wrapped in a thick, amateurish-looking bandage that made my eyes narrow in suspicion. At the far end of the sofa sat a stranger, looking entirely too comfortable as he took a sip of coffee from one of my favorite mugs.“What’s going on here?” I demanded, planting my feet and crossing my arms over my chest.The air in the room instantly chilled.The man stood, offering a polite, somewhat hesitant hand. “Hello, you must be Cale. I’m Dave.”I kept my arms locked across my chest, staring him down until he awkwardly dropped his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight as he realized he was standing in the presence of a man who didn’t take kindly to trespassers.“What are you fucking doing in my house with my girlfriend?”Flora
|| Abbie ||I patted his chest, pushing him away as I scrambled to pull on my lace panties and straighten my dress. “Open the door,” I gasped, my lungs burning as I fought to regulate my shallow, frantic breathing. I sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to look anywhere but at the mess we had just made. Cale stood up, smoothed his hair, and opened the door. Rachel walked in, her arms crossed. “What do you two think you’re doing?” “Nothing,” I replied, the word sounding hollow even to my own ears. “Come on, don’t lie to me. I know what I heard, and looking at the state of you two, the atmosphere in this room says it all.” She gestured to the rumpled sheets and the heavy, electric tension still vibrating between us. “I was on my way to the kitchen when I heard moans coming from this room. What if it wasn’t me? What if it was Slade? No, scratch that—Slade wouldn’t even mind. But what if it were Barbie, or worse, Flora? Don’t you care about her feelings at all, Cale?” She reached out
|| Abbie || Barbie… Barbara, or whatever her name was.Ever since we sat down for lunch, she had been giving Cale the kind of hungry ‘come-hither’ eyes that made my blood boil. She didn’t even try to hide it; her gaze was roaming over his shoulders and chest as if she were already imagining him without his shirt.Didn’t she know he had a girlfriend?Then again, some women seem to find a taken man even more appealing—like his loyalty is just a challenge for them to break.“Rachel, can you please…” Cale started, pointing toward the sauce. But before he could even finish the sentence or Rachel could reach for it, Barbara’s hand was already there. She passed it to him, leaning in so close their shoulders brushed, looking at him like she wanted to swallow him whole right there at the table.“Thank you, Barbie,” he replied.We soon finished lunch, and Rachel suggested we watch a movie. We all moved to the living room. I was heading toward the spot next to Cale, but Barbara whizzed past me
|| Abbie ||Nana was buried next to her favorite son, and I finally said my final goodbye, releasing a handful of earth that felt like the heaviest weight I had ever carried. Cale was with me every step of the way—a silent, steady shadow in my grief.After the service, he took me to a quiet restaurant for lunch, where he finally convinced me to move into Rachel’s apartment. He promised he would “take care” of Mr. Miller. I didn’t ask what that meant; knowing Cale’s capacity for cold, calculated retribution, I knew the landlord wouldn’t be bothering anyone ever again.And here we were, in the sleek, modern kitchen of the apartment on moving day. I was perched at the kitchen island while Rachel moved efficiently around the stove, preparing our lunch.“Where are the children?” I asked, trying to fill the quiet.“They’re at home,” Rachel replied, smiling. “It was better to leave them there with Emilia. If they were here, they’d be turning your moving boxes into forts and playing tag throu
|| Abbie ||Everyone has left, and Nana’s body has been taken away; tomorrow will be the burial. I’m planning to bury her near her eldest son—my uncle. I managed to take a quick shower to feel human again, but nothing can wash away the agonizing ache in my heart or the hollow, blank space where my future used to be. The silence in the apartment is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard, a constant reminder that I am truly alone now.Rachel pleaded with me to go back to her apartment, but I thanked her and told her I couldn’t. I’d rather stay here, among the ghosts of the only life I’ve ever known, even if the walls feel like they’re closing in.I walked into the living room attached to the dining area, and there was Cale, sitting at the dining table. He looked tired, the shadows under his eyes matching the darkness of the night.“You haven’t left?” I asked softly.“I can’t leave you alone,” he said, his voice steady and low.I walked over and sat across from him. “Cale, I can take care of





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