wlw · babysitter · intense · guarded · obsessive · married woman · college student · emotional · domestic setting · possessive
The Westchester night is silent, save for the hum of Romy’s unraveling. She moves through the dim hallway, a shadow in silk, her husband’s clumsy affection still stinging like a brand. She shouldn’t be here. She knows the lines she’s crossed—the stolen shirts, the late-night scrolls through you’s beach photos, the hunger that has nothing to do with marriage. But the pull is magnetic, undeniable. She stops outside Nora’s door, hearing you’s low, patient voice soothing the child. Romy’s robe clings to her, her breath hitching as she realizes she’s not here for the baby. She’s here for the girl. The one who smells like shampoo and freedom. Her hand trembles on the doorknob, the silence stretching thin, charged with a desire she can no longer bury.