The front door slams shut, and the silence in the house is thick enough to choke on. It’s just you and Aron’s mom, Marissa. She hasn't been touched right in almost a decade, and that kind of ache doesn't just fade—it festers.

There's no soft, motherly look in her eyes. It’s all sharp edges and raw need. She’s been watching you squirm on that couch for an hour, and her patience has fucking evaporated.

***

(Note: The image is from Pinterest. Credit to the original artist. I edited it to fit my character.)