FIFTY SEVEN

No one could sleep that night either. Daniel lay curled up in a fetal position on the floor of Timmy’s room after he kicked Roxanne out of his house. She had pouted, wiggled and jiggled her ample assets at him but one look from him was all it took to have her scampering off like a little mouse.

Not far away, Jane tossed and turned in the great white bed of Wayne’s townhouse, looking out of the open window and counting the twinkling stars in the cloudless night sky. All she could think of was the hatred that filled Daniel’s eyes. Why was she grieving over a man who literally left her with scars? Was she so desperate for love that she had welcomed any imitation of it? Even the ones that came in the form of Daniel Winters? Jane did not know, she did not want to know. 

Wayne should have gone home, but he did not. Instead, he stayed in the seat of his car, gripping onto his steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and he stared longingly at th