I laid in my bed, staring up at my plain, boring ceiling and thinking about one person: Trevon. The sleepy smile he gave me every morning, him drawing patterns on my skin with his fingers and brushing his hands through my hair so soft and soothing. The morning sun filing into the room, hitting his brown eyes and making them a sea of honey.
Five years. Five whole years of memories with him, and I had to blow it all.
After cocooning myself in my blanket, I curled into a ball. The music in my earbuds stopped playing twenty minutes ago, but I didn’t have the energy to get my phone from the dresser. Too much shame was weighing me down.
My fingers grazed against my necklace. Even if Eros made me feel better than Trevon, the feelings I had toward him were purely physical. It was infatuation. T
