Meryl's POV
The morning light streaming through unfamiliar windows felt like a slap across my face. I stared at the ceiling, willing myself to disappear into the white paint above me. My body ached in ways I didn't want to acknowledge, and the heavy scent of what we'd done clung to the sheets like a confession I couldn't take back.
This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
My phone buzzed against the nightstand, cutting through the silence like a knife. I reached for it with shaking fingers, praying it would be something meaningless. Something I could ignore.
It wasn't.
Morris: Morning, beautiful. Guess what? I'm flying into town today. Can't wait to finally hold you in my arms. Send me your address?