“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Cheyenne remarked, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. A curious mix of admiration and lust swirled within her, the image of Larry, vulnerable yet fulfilled, igniting a fierce desire to discover those same hidden depths. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what lay ahead. “About Erin’s things…” she started, her tone gentle, “there was something…personal we found.”
The words felt clumsy in her mouth, but she pressed on with the courage that usually came so easily to her. “Erin would take her time,” Larry continued, his voice dropping lower. It’s my turn to play,” Latisha declared, her voice bold and unapologetic. Latisha’s grip tightened, pulling him deeper into the encounter. It was in this space, this liminal moment of raw exposure, that Cheyenne saw beyond the facade of the grieving widower.
