He Told Her My House Was Already Hers

little chuckle. “She won’t.”

I walked in.

Both of them froze.

She was sitting at my vanity in a slip, brushing her hair with my silver-backed brush. Ethan stood near the bar cabinet, shirt unbuttoned, pouring bourbon like this was any other Thursday.

For a full two seconds, no one spoke.

Vanessa looked at me in the mirror first. Not frightened. Just confused.continue reading …