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Tides of the Past: The Guest
Mira lay on the plush sofa, the rhythmic crash of waves outside lulling her into a half-dream. The sun streamed through the open window, warming her skin as she curled deeper into her nap. She barely noticed the distant murmur of voices, the faint thud of footsteps on the wooden floor, until one voice cut through the haze like a cold wind.
"Where should we sit, Jonathan?" a familiar, deep voice echoed.
Mira's heart skipped. That voice. She blinked awake, her mind swimming in disbelief. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes scanning the grand living room of their beach house, which felt too large, too empty, like her marriage to Jonathan. He had insisted they move here, claiming the ocean views were inspiring for his work. In truth, it was a showpiece—a flex for his equally wealthy friends, and for her to parade around like some exotic prize.
Her husband’s laughter boomed from the hallway, pulling her attention to the door as three men walked into the room.
The first one was Jonathan, of course, tall, well-dressed, and perfectly polished in his white linen suit. He glanced at her briefly, flashing that performative smile of his, before turning back to his guests. Behind him, two men followed. One of them was a shorter man with sandy-blond hair and an easygoing demeanor. Professor Mark Dawson, a former college professor, was known for his relaxed attitude and frequent jokes in class. He was attractive in his own way, with a casual charm. Mira hadn’t thought much about him back then, but now, seeing him again, she realized just how much he had been part of the world she thought she’d left behind. He smiled when their eyes met, and Mira managed a polite nod, though her attention was already slipping elsewhere.
Because behind him…
Mira felt her breath catch in her throat as Professor Samuel Warren stepped into the room.
He looked almost exactly the same. The slight gray in his hair only added to his distinguished air. His sharp brown eyes, which had once watched her in the dim light of his office, now scanned the room as if searching for something. When his gaze finally landed on her, it lingered, just for a beat too long.
Jonathan was...
"Where should we sit, Jonathan?" a familiar, deep voice echoed.
Mira's heart skipped. That voice. She blinked awake, her mind swimming in disbelief. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes scanning the grand living room of their beach house, which felt too large, too empty, like her marriage to Jonathan. He had insisted they move here, claiming the ocean views were inspiring for his work. In truth, it was a showpiece—a flex for his equally wealthy friends, and for her to parade around like some exotic prize.
Her husband’s laughter boomed from the hallway, pulling her attention to the door as three men walked into the room.
The first one was Jonathan, of course, tall, well-dressed, and perfectly polished in his white linen suit. He glanced at her briefly, flashing that performative smile of his, before turning back to his guests. Behind him, two men followed. One of them was a shorter man with sandy-blond hair and an easygoing demeanor. Professor Mark Dawson, a former college professor, was known for his relaxed attitude and frequent jokes in class. He was attractive in his own way, with a casual charm. Mira hadn’t thought much about him back then, but now, seeing him again, she realized just how much he had been part of the world she thought she’d left behind. He smiled when their eyes met, and Mira managed a polite nod, though her attention was already slipping elsewhere.
Because behind him…
Mira felt her breath catch in her throat as Professor Samuel Warren stepped into the room.
He looked almost exactly the same. The slight gray in his hair only added to his distinguished air. His sharp brown eyes, which had once watched her in the dim light of his office, now scanned the room as if searching for something. When his gaze finally landed on her, it lingered, just for a beat too long.
Jonathan was...
