Seven Years of Winter Before Spring

Summary

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?”

I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?”

He repeated, “Can you handle it?”

My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?”

That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn.

Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought.