The Little Tortured Soul
Eric's car was parked in the safest corner he could find as he dozed off.
This is the first time in his entire life that he spent a night in the car. All thanks to Adriana and Daven.
"7 am," He huffed while checking his watch.
It might be too early to go and knock on someone's door but he needed this person.
He made his way up the elevator and stopped when he got to the floor.
Lucky for him, he had her address on his phone since she was the one incharge of making Adriana's wedding dress.
KNOCK KNOCK…
It took a while but soon enough, the door opened to Isabelle.
"Eric?" Her brows furrowed in surprise.
"I hope I didn't wake you," He said, even though he could clearly see she had a blow dryer in her hands.
"No, no," She smiled. "Come in," She led him into her two room apartment.
"I'm just battling with the curls," She went back to the mirror and continued her quest of straightening her African curls.