Alyssa

Despite the way Mason fucked me last night—slow, passionate, like he was trying to pull the sadness out of me one thrust at a time—I still wake up feeling like shit.

Numb. Hollow.

And aching in all the wrong places.

Because no matter what I do, I can't stop the reminder that I won't get to see my daughter's smile even once today.

The guys ordered breakfast from some hole-in-the-wall diner down the street. I didn't ask what they got. Didn't care. I've ...