Ronan’s Spiral

Ronan

I sat in the dim hotel room, staring at Lila as she lay across the bed, her hair spilling over the sheets. The yellow lamplight carved shadows under her collarbones. She was scrolling through her phone, nails tapping idly against the screen. Every now and then, her lips curved in a private smile.

“Babe,” I said, my voice rough from hours of silence. “We need to talk.”

Her eyes flicked up, bored. “About what, ...