Monica's POV
The morning sunlight filtered through the taxi windows as I left Morris's building, my heart heavy with conflicting emotions. Last night had been magical – his touch, his kisses, the way our bodies connected once more. But I knew what I had to do. The note I'd left behind said everything: I'd given myself to him one final time as a farewell to what we once had. The damage between us ran too deep.
Tears streamed down my face throughout the entire ride home. The taxi driver kept glancing at me in his rearview mirror, offering tissues and asking if I was okay. I barely managed to nod while fumbling with my phone to call Natalie. I needed my friends – all of them – even the newer ones who'd somehow become important to me in such a short time.
"Hey, can you get the girls together? I really need to talk," I whispered into the phone, trying to keep my voice from breaking.
