Down the Garden Path
Pregnant, aching, and alone in the garden—Marissa lets curiosity bloom into something filthy. I slid open the glass door and stepped into the breath of summer—warm, thick, and welcoming. My bare feet left the soft hush of carpet and met the slap of hot concrete. I flinched as the heat bit into my soles and tiptoed across the patio until the grass welcomed me—cool, lush, forgiving. A soft sigh slipped from my lips as the sting melted away. I glanced down, trying in vain to glimpse my toes. It had been months since...