Book 15: Trapped in Memories

Marianna

Misty’s house looks homey and warm in the light of midmorning. Coffee scents the air as she moves around her kitchen, opening and shutting cabinets. I rest on one of the stools at the kitchen island, nursing a mug of coffee with cream and vanilla syrup she makes herself, while scanning the family pictures on the walls. Blake rushes back into the kitchen, dressed in sleek navy trousers and a light blue button down, a matching navy blue suit jacket completing the ensemble. He presses the quickest kiss to my temple before darting to the garage, his phone already pressed to his ear.

Misty watches him go, smirking to herself, before she continues rummaging through her cupboards again.

Blake drove me over here about twenty minutes ago. He changed his mind about me tagging along while he talked to his parents, and I can’t say I mind. I sigh deeply into my coffee, my stomach in knots for him and what the next day, next week, and next year might lo