Fate's Unwritten Path

Chapter Five

Sasha's POV:

The cool night air brushed against my skin as I made my way down the dimly lit street, my heels clicking softly on the pavement. The weight of the day's events pressed down on my shoulders, making each step feel heavier than the last. My pencil skirt clung to my legs, and the tight dress hugged my body, restricting my movements just enough to remind me that I was still in my work clothes, still carrying the day's burdens.

As I approached my apartment building, I felt a familiar pang of relief. This was my sanctuary, my safe space. The world outside might be chaotic and overwhelming, but within these walls, I could at least pretend that everything was normal.

I fumbled with my keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door and stepping inside. The warmth of my one-bedroom apartment enveloped me, and I sighed, letting the tension in my body begin to unwind. The familiar sound of claws on hardwood floors greeted me, followed by a low, excited whine.

"Hey, Scooby," I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips as my pitbull puppy bounded toward me, his tail wagging furiously. Scooby-Doo—or Scooby, as I affectionately called him—was barely a year old, but he already had the energy of ten dogs. His brown fur was soft and warm under my fingers as I knelt to give him some much-needed affection.

(The "character" Scooby-Doo is actually based off of one of my own dogs :) *except my dog is a pitbull mixed with something else*)

"You've been a good boy today, haven't you?" I asked, scratching behind his ears. He responded with a happy bark, his eyes bright with love and trust. For a moment, the weight on my chest lightened as I focused on him, his presence grounding me in a way that nothing else could.

After a few minutes, I reluctantly stood up and slipped off my heels, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold floor. The chill sent a shiver up my spine, but I pushed the discomfort aside and made my way to the kitchen, Scooby trotting at my heels.

I opened the pantry and grabbed Scooby's dinner, pouring the kibble into his bowl before refilling his water. He immediately dove into his meal, tail still wagging, and I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. At least one of us was having a good day.

Leaving Scooby to his dinner, I turned my attention to my meal. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I knew I needed to eat something. I reached for the salad ingredients in the fridge, my movements slow and deliberate as I washed and chopped the vegetables. The rhythmic motion of preparing the salad was soothing in its way, a small semblance of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic day.

Once the salad was ready, I poured myself a glass of wine—something strong enough to take the edge off but not so much that I would regret it later. I carried my dinner to the small table in the corner of the kitchen and sat down, the silence of the apartment wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

As I ate, my thoughts drifted back to the events of the day. Richard, Lucas, the gun—it all played out in my mind like a twisted film, each scene more vivid than the last. I took a sip of wine, trying to wash away the memories, but they clung to me, refusing to be forgotten.

By the time I finished my meal, I felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I set the empty plate and glass in the sink before heading to the bathroom, the cold floor biting at my feet with every step.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and began to undress, slipping out of my work clothes with a sense of relief. The cool air brushed against my skin, sending another shiver through me, but I ignored it as I reached for a towel and wrapped it around my body. I pinned it in place, the soft fabric offering a small comfort as I moved to the shower.