The next morning, the bright Arizona sun cut through the curtains of the kitchen, looking far too cheerful for how everyone felt.
The house was quiet, except for the low hum of the stove and the occasional clink of a spoon against a pot.
Dylan stood at the stove, his face held a forced calm expression.
He had been up since dawn. He hadn't slept at all after leaving Anastasia whispered another man's name while kissing him.
He had sat on the sofa, watching her sleep all night, the sound of her whispering Matteo's name had looped in his head like a broken record.
To keep his hands from shaking, he focused on the task at hand... making a large pot of spicy chicken soup to help with the inevitable hangovers.
Lori was the first to appear. She crawled into the kitchen, clutching her head, her shimmering dress from the night before now wrinkled and dull.
"Ugh, tell the sun to turn it down," she groaned, sliding onto a chair.
