Twisted Fate
James slumped into the leather chair in Sarah’s dimly lit apartment, the scent of her lavender candles mingling with the faint aroma of her perfume. He loosened his tie, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion.
Sarah appeared in the doorway, wearing a silk robe that barely reached her knees. She held a glass of red wine in one hand, her expression amused. “Well, well, look who decided to show up,” she teased, setting the wine glass down on the coffee table.