The Hanger, continued:

Start the story here.

It continues right here.

The room was a disaster. Stephanie forgot how ravenous she’d been in her clothing pursuit. Every cute dress and strappy top, dark jean, and mini skirt lay tumbled across the room. They looked sad. Not yet ready to take off the black shirt, she bend down and started putting the clothes away.

When Melanie parked the car she decided she didn’t want to wait to forgive John. She grabbed up her phone and started playing the voicemail.

Hey Mel. Sorry if I pissed you off earlier. You seemed annoyed. I’m not sure why. Anyway, you know I think I misjudged Steph. She seems pretty cool. Talk to you later, yeah?


The phone message over, Melanie sat in her car with her shoulders hunched, wondering what in the hell that message was saying. It buzzed around her ears. Trying not to read too much into the nickname-ish familiarity of John calling her Steph and the dig at her sensitivity, Melanie dragged herself out of the car and into bed without answering.

Stephanie’s closet was back to normal. Yet the black shirt was still hanging on her shoulders. She would have to give it back to Melanie. The thought of dragging out the borrow for a bit longer with the excuse of washing it crossed her mind. It was the polite thing to do, even if there was nothing to wash off. A text from Mark brightened her phone, but Stephanie decided not to look at it. She felt too good to be disappointed by him.

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