ROSALINE

Waking up in Gerald's room felt surreal, like a soft echo of the peace we'd finally found after tumultuous storms. The sheets were cool beside me, signaling his absence, so I shuffled out of bed, still basking in the quiet joy of our reconciliation, and the events from last night.

My legs still ached, and I didn't need a soothsayer to know that every part of me was designed with a hickey. It wasn't a bad feeling.

Slipping into my flip-flops, I walked towards the living room, but the aroma of breakfast halted me mid-way, a delightful surprise that sent butterflies into a frenzy within my stomach. He was...