Aubrey sat on her couch, her fingers drumming restlessly against the armrest as she stared blankly ahead. Golden rays from the setting sun filled the living room, but it did nothing to ease her anxious mind.
The shadows stretched and twisted across the floor, as if intent on engulfing her. But it wasn't the darkness that bothered her; it was the image burned into her mind—the image of Mason and Ellen sitting so close together on her couch just a few hours earlier.
She could still see them in her mind's eye, side by side, their bodies almost touching, Ellen's hand casually resting on Mason's arm as if she had every right to be there. And the worst part? Mason hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't even flinched. He had just sat there, allowing Ellen to do whatever she pleased, as if Aubrey wasn't even in the room.
