I was never into fairy tales.
But discovering a real live princess in my house reminds me of the story of the three bears and some chick who breaks into their pad, eats all their food, and sleeps in their beds.
Just like the one that’s in mine right now.
At first, I thought she was dead, but the rise and fall of her chest told me that she was just passed out, probably from the half-empty bottle of Bordeaux I’d been saving for a special occasion. Two grand down the drain, courtesy of Goldi-effing-locks here, who’s not only passed out cold, but she’s also naked.
I should walk out right now and let her be…
But I can’t. Not when there’s something else next to the Bordeaux, something that shouldn’t be here. And it’s sitting on top of a note that begins with the words…
“I’m sorry I failed you…”