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The soft morning light streamed through the lace curtains in my parents' warm kitchen, casting a cozy golden glow over the breakfast table. The remnants of Mom's delicious blueberry pancakes and fresh coffee lingered, comforting me like a warm hug I wasn't quite ready to let go of.
The air was filled with the familiar scents of maple syrup and buttery toast, mixed with the subtle floral fragrance my mother wore. Yet, beneath it all, I felt a nervous energy buzzing inside me, lingering since I'd woken up tangled in the narrow twin bed upstairs, the memory of last night's reckless encounter still sending tingles across my skin like a secret I hoped the walls had kept.
