Day thirty-two felt like the house had finally crossed an invisible threshold. The rain had eased into a soft mist, but the air inside Maple Lane remained thick with the weight of every conversation that had come before. Amina had texted early: “Dinner tonight. Same time. I don’t have a new big question this time. I just want to sit with you both and see how it feels. Porch if it’s dry enough.”
Elias read the message while I was still wrapped in his arms in bed. His body was curled tightly around mine, morning hardness pressed hot against my a*s. His hand was already between my thighs, fingers spreading the slick warmth he had left inside me the night before.
“She doesn’t have a new question,” he murmured, voice thick with cautious relief and immediate hunger. “She just wants to sit with
