DEMETRIA

“What a birthday surprise,” Marion smirked as he held the Polaroid pictures I left as a trail from the stairs to his bedroom, staring at me lying on his bed. I came in early because he had to handle something last-minute at the party, allowing me to set up everything with Anastasia’s idea.

“Happy birthday, Marion,” I said softly, my voice trembling just a little.

He leaned against the doorframe, jaw tense, eyes running over me in a slow, deliberate drag. I was in a ...