ILLICIT OBSESSION
Her long wavy dark hair was twisted up in a messy bun, a few rebellious strands framing her face.
She moved with deliberate focus, cracking eggs into a glass bowl, whisking them with more force than necessary. The rich scent of butter melting in the pan filled the air, mixing with vanilla extract and fresh berries she had pulled from the fridge. Cooking was her attempt at normalcy, a way to occupy her hands and silence the memories that refused to fade: Ronan’s body pinning her to the counter, the sharp sting of his palm, the way he had filled her so completely she had forgotten every reason why this was wrong.
The whisk clinked rhythmically against the bowl. *Never again,* she repeated sile