Baby. Love. Marriage.

, not the rough voices of thugs with panty hose on their heads complaining a

he way out of the apartment and stood fidgeting, wondering what to do. Check out the situation herself? Or call the police, a

g tomorrow. Sometimes it seemed she was

ossed and a rather suspicious look on his face as

itating, the way she almost felt compelled to sigh in admiration every time she got a look at that

them up close. Those dark eyes framed by mile-long lashes reminded her of chocolate, and everybody knew chocolate was a

y not goo

loser. "You're white as a sheet. A

e drew her brows together in a frown, trying to decode it. Was this a friendly neighbor smile, or a "women!" smirk? Was he remembering a hysterical woman w

her. "Laura, are you sure you're

le. The corners of her lips almost moved and all. "No, thank you, everything's fine." He didn

own apartment and leaving Laura alone with her predicament. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt a bit

orward ending up on the righ

was still on the menu. The cat lived somewhere close by; those green eyes and white whiskers made a regular appearance in the street. So far, Laura's withering glares had se

s. She would march in there and chase the cat out of there herse

hecked that the front door was still open as an escape-either for herself or for the cat-and crept toward the

ust as she'd left it, the afternoon sun illuminating the dusty surfaces all too well: the rumpled be

lar. An

the door fully open. All this for nothing. That sound she'd heard m

down on the bed. That was that. Ju