Paige stepped out of her room, pulling a long coat over her shoulders with the soft click of the door gently closing behind her. She had always been Kayden's confidant, and her voice over the phone clearly told her something was up.
As she made it to the living room, she paused, her footsteps halting at the sight that met her eyes. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small lamp stands on the mini tables in the corners of the room.
There, on the sofa, lay Clinton. His body stretched out in an uncomfortable slumber, his breaths deep and even.
Around him, the evidence of a solitary night spent in excess was scattered— a collection of empty alcohol cans adorned the coffee table and the floor, some rolling slightly as the air from the ceiling fan stirred them.
Paige's heart sank at the sight. She had left him for an hour only to step out to this.
