By the time I wake up the next morning, the sunlight is already pouring into my bedroom. The place on my bed where Brandon slept is warm but empty, and I can tell he was here not long ago.
I sit up and stretch, slowly letting the awareness of the bruises on my biceps filter in. Lonnie really grabbed me hard last night.
I’m so glad he’s going to be gone after today.
I go over to the playpen and look down at Emmy. She’s still asleep. I want her close to me, but I don’t want to disturb her—she went through a lot last night. I know she’s a heavy sleeper at this age, and she’ll probably get a lot of rest if I just leave her to it.
The door opens, and Brandon comes in with a cup of coffee. He perches on the edge of the bed, hands it to me, and I drink gratefully.
“How are things going?” I ask.
“Lonnie is already gone,” he says.
“What?” I almost drop my cup. “Seriously?”