JessGuilt filled me as I sat on the couch in disbelief. My mother was upstairs, sleeping, trusting me as her daughter, 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 even as I dragged myself to bed, the memory of his hands, 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 25, not some spoilt teenager anymore. I was grown now. I had to end this. My mom deserved better.I threw on an oversized hoodie and tights, splashed water on my face, and headed downstairs to make coffee. No more mistakes.At least that's what I thought, until I got to the kitchen, stopping dead in my tracks.Greg was there, shirtless, pouring a mug, his sweatpants low on his hips. My mouth went dry. My
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