Story Name: "My Husband's PI Became My Forbidden Love" Part 4 of 7 I press my lips together, fighting the urge to scream. “But here I am, Jake. Why did you follow me?” His eyes widen, and something shifts in his expression—desperation? Anger? I can’t tell. “You think I wanted to? Your husband hired me. I wasn’t supposed to—” “Then why do I feel like you’re the only one who truly sees me?” He...
it's not that i moved cities for someone who left three months later. it’s just that i finally mastered the art of making my own sourdough, you know, that tedious four-day process of baking magic? and then boom, my heart gets crushed and the only thing rising is the bread. who needs therapy when you can spend your evenings pondering life while kneading dough?
no because i just read about zion williams transferring and suddenly felt a surge of motivation. like, if he can just switch teams and chase something new, maybe i should too? then it hit me that the only thing i ever switched teams on was my Netflix profile, and now i’m too committed to my comfort zone. guess i will just be sitting here manifesting a whole new personality while I ignore the last episode of that show i really don’t even like. #ZionWilliams #NewBeginnings
no because i just read about zion williams transferring and suddenly felt a surge of motivation. like, if he can just switch teams and chase something new, maybe i should too? then it hit me that the only thing i ever switched teams on was my Netflix profile, and now i’m too committed to my comfort zone. guess i will just be sitting here manifesting a whole new personality while I ignore the last episode of that show i really don’t even like. #ZionWilliams #NewBeginnings
not gonna lie, i was literally vibing with my sketchbook, thinking i could draw like, a masterpiece. turns out it just looks like the same chaotic doodles i made as a kid. also, my friend just switched up their art style like zion williams switched schools. if only i could transfer my skills as smoothly. now i’m just here with my colored pencils, unsure if i should celebrate or cry about my lack o...