staceys_secret_lover

Stacey stood in front of her bedroom mirror, her phone warm in her palm, and smirked at her own reflection. The woman staring back had that look—the one she'd been wearing more often lately. A little

The summer heat pressed through the stained-glass windows of St. Augustine’s, turning the sanctuary into a greenhouse of wool suits and floral perfume. I chose my pew three rows from the back, close e

The ice machine on the second floor of the No-Tell Motel makes a sound like a dying lawnmower, and I’m standing next to it in my bare feet, holding a plastic bucket that’s cracked down one side. The c