Unrequited love

The morning sun, pale and unwelcome, streamed through the apartment windows, rousing Maya from a restless sleep.

She stretched on the pull-out couch, the events of the previous night replaying in her mind like a distorted film reel. Shame burned in her cheeks recalling the accusation she made towards Mr. Horatio.

The peaceful silence was broken by the gentle chime of the doorbell. Maya, who had been half-awake, sat up abruptly. She glanced at Isla, who was still in a deep, alcohol-induced sleep, and felt a pang of guilt. The memories of last night's conversation with Mr. Horatio flooded back, filling her with shame and unease.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time.

Maya slipped out of bed, muttering an excuse to herself as she retreated to the sanctuary of the bathroom. The sound of rushing water brought a temporary refuge from the growing unease that gnawed at her.

⁕⁕⁕