“What?”
“You met someone.”
Sierra almost choked on her coffee.
“No.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“Was he attractive?”
“Zara.”
“That means yes.”
Sierra rubbed her forehead.
“He was just being polite.”
“That’s exactly how every tragic romance starts.”
Sierra tossed a napkin at her.
But later that night, while Zara slept on the couch beside unfinished homework, Sierra sat alone in the dark kitchen thinking about the loneliness she had seen in Nathaniel’s eyes.
A man like that should not have looked lonely.
And yet he did.
The next morning at 5:47 a.m., Nathaniel was waiting again.
This time he carried two coffees.
Sierra slowed the moment she saw him.continue reading …
