later
Not the pool.
Not the bikini.
The gate code.
Betrayal rarely kicks the door in.
Sometimes it waits for you to hand it a key and call that kindness.
The backyard smelled like chlorine when Marissa opened the kitchen door.
It was the clean, sharp smell that always rose from the pool on hot days, mixed with warm stone and the green peppery scent of basil continue reading …
