Grant’s POVAfter drinking the whole night with Selene, we stumbled back home, reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. We made love like reckless teenagers, wild, sloppy, desperate for something that wasn’t real.“You know,” I mumbled against her neck, my words thick with alcohol, “I love the way you handle me. My wife just lies there like a log of wood.”Selene laughed, soft and cruel all at once. “That’s because I’m not your wife, baby. I’m not as old and tired as she is.”“I know,” I slurred, sinking into the bed and the warmth beside me.***“Daddy! Daddy!” Oliver’s voice echoed through the doorway, slicing through the haze the next morning.I groaned, cracking one eye open. The sunlight stabbed through the blinds, too bright, too honest. My head pounded as I blinked at my son standing there, hair messy, schoolbag slung over one shoulder.“What is it?” I rasped, rubbing my temples.“I’m late for school… and I’m hungry,” he said, his little voice uncertain.Hungry. The word hit me like
Last Updated : 2025-10-17 Read more