A Morning After

As dawn broke, I lay in the guest room, staring at Mr. Nelson’s sleeping face. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his features. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions from the previous night, and I couldn’t shake the sense of confusion and regret that lingered.

I quietly got out of bed, careful not to disturb Mr. Nelson. My clothes from the night before were in disarray, and the room was filled with the remnants of our passionate encounter. With a heavy heart, I gathered the few belongings I had brought with me—my shirt and the clothes I had worn on my first day. I deliberately left behind anything Mr. Nelson had bought for me, not wanting to keep any reminders of the night’s events.

As I packed my belongings, I took one last, lingering look at Mr. Nelson. His face was peaceful, oblivious to the turmoil I was feeling. I closed the door quietly behind me and stepped out into the hallway. The mansion, once imposing and grand, now felt cold a