Slowly, methodically, he undressed her. She stirred briefly before settling back to sleep. Waiting for her breathing to resume a measured cadence, he anchored a hand under her hips, easing her dress down her bare legs. Myles didn’t know why, but he felt like a voyeur when he stared at Zabrina’s half-naked body. She hadn’t worn a bra under the dress. He recalled her preference for sleeping nude, but decided not to remove her bikini panties.
She moaned softly when he eased her between the sheets. He waited a full minute, then shrugged off his robe and slipped into bed beside her. It was as if nothing had changed. Pressing his chest to her back, he rested an arm over her waist, pulling her closer. The angry words Myles had rehearsed so many times he could recite them backward he’d erased from memory. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the lingering floral fragrance of her shampoo.
“Myles?”
He froze when Zabrina whispered his name. “Yes, baby?”
“I…I…I’m sorry,” she slurred.
There came a beat. “So am I,” Myles whispered. “So am I, Brina,” he repeated.
Myles wasn’t certain what she was apologizing for, but he knew why he was sorry. He was sorry they hadn’t gone through with their plan to marry, sorry that her son wasn’t his and sorry it had taken almost a decade for him to get the opportunity to confront her about her deception.
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