Metro Romane & Geschichten

He tugged her to an open arch, where the gleam of white subway and glass tile beckoned. "Wow." Marc's exclaimed word aptly described the bathroom, a large space dominated by a huge glass-enclosed shower. She counted. "Twelve showerheads? Who needs that many?" Thad chuckled. "That's nothing. At the compound, the master bedroom facilities boast sixteen, plus a rain shower one overhead." Before she could ask how dirty he got, hands tugged at her clothes. Thaddeus wasted no time. Shyness returned as she wondered what the heck she was doing. Was this the right thing to do? Was she-

Death. Not something one thinks about while taking their sleeping child up the cream carpeted stairs to their nursery. It certainly wasn’t on Margret’s mind as she walked into the room, placing Lena into the wooden crib. She draped the pink baby blanket over the infant and softly pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight my angel”, Margaret said quietly before reaching up to set the hanging mobile going. As the stars slowly turned, Brahms Lullaby played. The 35 year old brunette sighed as she gazed upon her daughter.

𝙰𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 7 years old. The brown-haired boy stood there looking at the woman helping her kids choose the toys they wanted. Ace didn't get help from her, he's shy, anxious that she's going to return the ten dollars teddy bear that he brought. His soft small hand clenched the ear of the brown teddy bear, he pouted and with a shaking body, he approached his mother.

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A timeline. I could work with timelines.

Beep, beep, beep... Riley hit the snooze button on her phone. Five minutes later, the same annoying alarm sounded, and this time, she didn't ignore it. It was 6 A.M. and she knew she needed to shower and get ready for her breakfast date with Ethan. As she got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, she heard her phone vibrate, so she ran over and grabbed it to see, "Good morning, beautiful. Meet me at the diner in town for 8?". She beamed and replied with a "heart emoji, see you then," text right back. She placed her phone back down and grabbed her towel, heading for the shower.

It's just some random number. *Hello, sweetie!* It says. Probably some drunk slut who hit the wrong number. As I want to delete this I get another text. *It's me, Monika. Don't dare to ignore me!* She texted. How the hell did she get my switzgerman number? ... (to be continued)