twenty-seven

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♫ It'll never be enoughIt's obvious you're meant for meEvery piece of you it just fits perfectly ♪(LIttle Mix ft

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♫ It'll never be enough
It's obvious you're meant for me
Every piece of you it just fits perfectly ♪
(LIttle Mix ft. Jason DeRulo—Secret love song)

When Ryan's alarm sounded, Coralie woke, and wasn't in the nude, for once. It was six-thirty, and he'd promised to drop her off at the label on his way to work. An early start for her, but that meant she'd get off earlier for the bar job that night. And have more time between both locations, without needing to rush.

As he stirred, stroked her cheek, and kissed her forehead, he smiled. A filter of early morning light crept through his curtains and basked his skin in a caramel halo. "I'll make us coffee," he said, his voice soft, his touch gentle. His caress lulled her into sitting up a little and grinning as she watched him walk out, admiring the sway in his step.

Also, as promised, he hadn't seduced her into having sex that night. That was why she'd woken with her satin pajamas on—they hadn't tried to take each other's clothes off. They hadn't gotten busy in the bathtub, nor after, nor in the middle of the night. Instead, they'd lain in each other's arms and fallen asleep to a few episodes of Friends, like a married couple that no longer needed to indulge in hours of intimacy to show their love.

Coralie appreciated this improved Ryan; the Ryan she'd imagined months prior, when they'd first started talking again. The attentive husband, the caring father, the kind man she'd remembered from high school. When they'd been wrapped up in their affair, when he snuck around behind Gemma's back and spent exorbitant amounts of money on Coralie, wining and dining her, it had been fun, sure. But it wasn't genuine. Such secrecy and games had transformed Ryan into a monster, and his later jealousy towards Michael had worsened the behavior.

Whatever had shifted him, whatever had convinced him to return to normal, Coralie was grateful.

She checked her phone, and saw the flashing voicemail icon, bringing her back to the call she'd avoided from Michael the night before. He rarely left messages, only sent texts, so assuming this was important, she pressed the play button and brought the speaker to her ear.

"Hi, babe. Sorry to bother you... I assume you're sleeping off your sickness, or your stress, or whatever. I hope you're feeling better, or on the right path. I hate to know you're not doing well."

Smiling at his thoughtfulness, she envisioned him lying next to her, where Ryan had been moments before. And though she winced for half a second, remorseful at picturing someone else seconds after Ryan had left the room, she couldn't stop the picture in her mind. Michael waking beside her and making her coffee. Michael cuddling her until she fell asleep and forgot about all her stress.

She refocused on the rest of his message.

"But I have news. That's why I'm calling. I mean, of course, I wanted to check on you, but..." He cleared his throat; he was nervous, she could tell from how his voice trembled through the receiver. "I've been meeting with investors and advisors. Interviewing collaborators and speaking with other professional photographers in New York City. I shared my work with them, discussed creating a similar brand over there, a similar start-up... and Cora, baby, they're fascinated. Super interested! Isn't that crazy?"

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