Page 54 of The Final Straw

"He's... okay, I guess," I reply, feeling a twinge of sadness. "He's been busy with work and trying to keep his mind off everything. We talk, but it's not the same."

Grady nods sympathetically. "It's understandable. This whole situation is tough."

I look down, playing with the hem of my shirt. "I just wish things could go back to the way they were. Before everything got so complicated."

Kipp squeezes my hand gently. "I know. But sometimes, complications can lead to something even better. We just have to be patient and trust the process."

I nod, appreciating his optimism. "You're right. I need to stop overthinking and just take things as they come."

"Exactly," Grady agrees. "One day at a time."

We sit in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company. The uncertainty of the future still lingers, but for now, I'm content to be here with them.

Eventually, it's time for me to head home. As I gather my things, Kipp and Grady walk me to the door.

"Thanks for coming over," Kipp says, giving me a warm hug.

"Anytime," I reply, hugging him back.

Grady pulls me into a hug next, and I feel safe in his embrace. "Drive safe. Can we take you out next weekend? Say Saturday.”

"I will," I promise, stepping back and smiling at them. “And of course.”

I take a few steps toward my car before turning around and giving a little wave. “Goodnight.”

"Goodnight," they reply in unison.

I leave their house feeling a mix of emotions—hope, anxiety, but most of all, determination.

As I drive home, I replay the night's events, feeling a peace I haven't felt in a long time.

Back home, I head straight to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The mirror reflects my tired eyes and the slight sheen of sweat on my forehead. I peel off my skort and t-shirt, letting them drop to the floor in a heap. The cool tiles feel refreshing against my bare feet as I step into the shower.

Turning the handle, I let the water heat up before stepping under the spray. The warm water cascades over me, washing away the day’s grime and stress. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation, and take a deep breath, inhaling the steamy air. The sound of water hitting the tiles is soothing, almost hypnotic, and I feel the tension melting away from my muscles.

After a few minutes, I reach for my shampoo, lathering it into my hair and letting the fragrant suds work their magic. Rinsing it out, I follow with conditioner, then scrub my body clean with my favorite scented body wash.

Finally feeling clean, I shut off the water and step out, wrapping a soft towel around my body. I dry off quickly and then wrap another towel around my hair, twisting it up turban-style. It’s a familiar routine at the end of the day that signifies it’s time to unwind.

I move to the sink and begin my face routine. I cleanse, tone, and moisturize. My reflection looks more relaxed now, the stress of the day washed away. The cool night air feels refreshing on my damp skin as I finish and head to my bedroom.

The bed looks inviting; I slip into a comfortable nightgown and slide under the covers, feeling the cool sheets against my skin. I settle in, fluffing my pillow and pulling the blanket up to my chin.

As I close my eyes, my thoughts drift to the three men who have been driving me wild. They are a tantalizing mix of mystery and allure, their faces and voices intertwining in my mind. I can almost feel their presence, their hands, their whispered words. A smile tugs at my lips as I drift off to sleep, lost in the fantasy of their attention and affection. The world outside fades away, and I sink into a dream-filled slumber.

Chapter 28

Van

“Thank you. I’ll be there.” I hang up and release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

Mr. Singletary, the DA, has officially told me that we’re proceeding with the trial. Barbi refused the plea deal they offered. My mind is wrecked with a mix of emotions. I want people to hear my story, so that if another man goes through what I did, they’re not silenced by what people will think of them and speak up. This topic is so sensitive and filled with so many prejudices that it will never be easy to speak about if someone doesn’t do it first.

I guess I’m that someone.

Next week, I have a meeting with the DA to discuss the trial preparations and potential questions from her attorney.

My stomach is already revolting, wanting to expel its contents at the thought of retelling the events of the night in front of a room of people.

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