I groaned quietly, my voice rough with morning grogginess. "Ahm..." I blinked at the curtains, where bright sunlight streamed through, casting golden streaks across the bedroom floor. The room was quiet, save for the birds outside and the steady rhythm of breathing against me.
"Is it morning already?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as I glanced around, the memories of last night flooding back. Aeri and I had fallen asleep together, tangled in each other’s arms after a night that still made my heart race.
I looked down at my chest, and there she was—Aeri, curled up against me, her face peaceful, her dark hair spilling over my skin. Her arms were wrapped loosely around me, her cheek pressed to my chest, rising and falling with every slow breath.
"Aeri..." I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched her sleep.
She looked so calm, so unguarded, her usual teasing spark replaced by a quiet vulnerability that made my chest tighten. "She must’ve been exhausted," I thought, my hand moving to brush a few strands of hair from her face, tucking them gently behind her ear.
Her skin was warm under my fingers, and I couldn’t help but linger, tracing the curve of her cheek. "I should let her sleep a bit longer."
Carefully, I shifted, sitting up as slowly as I could to avoid waking her. Aeri stirred faintly, her brows furrowing, but I slid a pillow into her arms, letting her hug it instead of me. I pulled the bedsheet up, tucking it around her shoulders to keep her warm, and paused to look at her again. She looked so cute, her lips slightly parted, her face soft in the morning light.
My heart did a little flip, and I leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering for a moment. "Sleep well," I whispered, barely audible, before slipping out of bed.
The door creaked softly as I closed it behind me, and I heard a faint "Umph... amm..." from Aeri as she turned onto her side, settling back into sleep.
I smiled to myself, padding barefoot down the stairs, the wooden steps cool under my feet. The house was quiet, bathed in the early morning glow, the sunlight spilling into the living room and kitchen, making everything feel fresh and new.
In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth, the minty foam waking me up a bit more as I gargled and splashed cold water on my face.
I grabbed a glass from the kitchen counter, filling it with water, the faucet humming softly. My throat was dry, and the cool water felt good as I drank, leaning against the counter for a moment.
I wandered into the living room, sinking onto the couch with a long, heavy "Sighhhh..." My eyes drifted to the ceiling, the white paint catching the sunlight, and my mind started to wander.
Images flashed—Sara in the dressing room at her wedding, her teary eyes, her smile, the way she’d whispered "I love you, Ezra" before we’d lost ourselves on that couch. The memory hit hard, tangled with guilt and heat, and I shook my head, trying to push it away.
Then came last night with Aeri, her warmth, her moans, the way she’d looked at me with that rare, soft smile, like she was starting to let me in completely. The contrast made my chest ache, a mix of love and regret swirling inside me.
"Enough," I muttered, my voice low but firm, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I gotta settle down. Make things right. Get my life together... and marry Aeri." The words came out with a fire that surprised me, a resolve that burned in my eyes as I stared upward, my hands tightening around the glass.
My stomach growled loudly, cutting through the moment, and I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "Alright, alright, food first," I said to myself, setting the glass down on the coffee table. "Then we figure out the rest."
The morning sunlight poured through the kitchen windows, casting a warm golden glow across the tiled floor and worn wooden cabinets. The faint chirping of birds outside mingled with the quiet hum of the house, still waking up from the night.
I stood in front of the open fridge, the cool air brushing my face as I stared at the nearly empty shelves—a half-empty carton of milk, a couple of eggs, and some sad-looking vegetables in the crisper. "Aeri’s still sleeping," I muttered under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck. "Don’t wanna wake her just for this."
I sighed, closing the fridge door with a soft thud. "Guess I’ll just cook something myself," I said, turning toward the stove, the familiar clatter of pots and pans grounding me in the moment.
I grabbed a cutting board from the counter, the wood scratched from years of use, and pulled out a knife. Chop, chop. The sound of the blade slicing through carrots and bell peppers filled the kitchen, rhythmic and steady. I diced an onion next, the sharp scent stinging my eyes as I tossed the pieces into a sizzling pan with some oil. The chicken came next, cubed and seasoned with salt and pepper, hissing as it hit the hot skillet. On the side, I popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, the faint hum of it joining the chorus of sounds. A small pot of milk bubbled gently on the stove, ready for coffee, the rich aroma starting to fill the air.
My phone sat silent on the counter, its screen dark. I glanced at it, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
"No calls this morning," I said to myself, my voice low. "Guess I’ve got no clients or work to deal with today. Maybe Jonathan’s giving me a break for once." The thought of my brothel work crept in, uninvited, and with it came a flash of the first lady—her polished smile, the way she’d tucked her hair behind her ear, her eyes lingering on me as she took my number.
Her voice, smooth and deliberate, echoed in my mind, and I shook my head hard, like I could shake the memory loose.
"Nah, not happening," I said, my voice firmer now, turning my attention back to the pan, stirring the chicken with a wooden spoon.
Tap, tap. The soft sound of footsteps broke my thoughts, and I turned to see Aeri leaning against the kitchen doorway.
"Umph... what’re you doing, Ezra?" she asked, her voice sleepy, a little hoarse from just waking up.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, and for a moment, I forgot the sizzling pan behind me.
She stood there in nothing but one of my loose shirts, the hem barely reaching her thighs, her smooth, thick legs catching the morning light. The shirt hung off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone and cleavage, and her dark hair was a messy tangle, framing her half-closed eyes.
She looked so soft, so effortlessly beautiful, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand like a kid waking up from a nap.