The Atlanta morning carried a faint edge of spring—warm sun cutting through the humidity, birds loud outside the condo windows. David woke to a flood of texts from the full harem, each one a quiet pulse of dependency that kept the web tight even on quieter days.
Elena 🔥 (7:14 a.m.): Woke up wet again. Mark's at the office pretending everything's normal. I'm wearing the necklace you gave me under my blouse. Every time it touches my skin I think of you breeding me on his side of the bed.
Sophia (7:38 a.m.): Brian asked why I'm smiling so much. I told him "good news at work." He bought it. Divorce lawyer appointment booked for next Tuesday. I'm dripping thinking about telling you in person tonight.
