Shayla
The next day, Chris and I woke up early, our bodies still entwined from the night's sleep. As I stirred, his hand instinctively found mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch reassured me, even as anxiety gnawed at my stomach. We had spent the previous day strategizing with our PR team, and now it was time to face the public. We decided to dress in business attire, wanting to present a united and professional front.
I watched Chris button up his crisp white shirt, his movements steady despite the tension in the air. He caught my eye and smiled, a silent reminder that we were in this together. I nodded, feeling a surge of determination.
We left the house hand in hand, each touch a promise of solidarity. Mark was waiting for us outside, a reminder that we were not alone. As we stepped out, the early morning air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the turmoil we were about to face.
