*Dove*I feel like a zombie walking into the office this morning. My shoulders are tense, my brain is foggy, and I think I’m wearing mismatched socks. I barely got any sleep last night after Miles stormed out of the penthouse after his little blow-up. Over what? I’m still trying to figure that one out.His overreaction to the conversation I had with my mom yesterday is still a mystery to me. Why the hell would he think I was planning to leave him after a simple warning? My mom never said the words, “Leave him.” She just wants me to be careful, and while I understand her concerns, it’s not enough for me to leave my husband for fear that he might one day hurt me. Miles isn’t like that.I tried to call and text him multiple times throughout the night. At first, the phone would ring out, but eventually, it just went straight to voicemail, as if my calling him to find out if he was okay was annoying him. I was upset to begin with because he had left me alone without providing any i
*Dove*By the time the taxi drops me back at the penthouse and I say goodbye to Amy and Sabrina, I’m brimming with anger. I can’t believe Miles would go to a bar with his assistant after ignoring me for twenty-four hours, then spot me across the room, and still make no move to come and talk to me. Granted, discussing such a topic at a bar might not be the most appropriate location, but still.I had to hold Amy back from walking across the room and giving my husband a piece of her mind. As much as I love her for wanting to stick up for me, this is a battle I have to fight on my own. I kick my shoes off by the front door and march toward the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the lights—the city skyline provides enough light. I need something to help with the anger burning in my chest, so I think pouring wine into the largest glass I can find will do the trick. Once my glass is full, I walk to the couch and plop down. Taking a large gulp, I watch water droplets race down th
*Dove*Walking into work this morning, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Last night with Miles went well. After he ate me out until my brain felt like it was going to explode and then proceeded to remind me just how much he loves me by fucking me until I almost blacked out, we lay in bed and discussed what happened further.He apologized repeatedly for overreacting, and I had to reassure him every time that I forgave him. We all make mistakes, and Miles is the type of person who chooses to run from his problems instead of facing them head-on. It’s something he has agreed to work on, which I’m grateful for. The last thing I want is another misunderstanding like that.When we woke up this morning, he had cooked me breakfast in bed with the promise of repeating what we did the night before. It was safe to say my cheeks were red the entire morning. I’ll never not blush when it comes to my husband and his way with words. I’m just grateful that we sorted eve
*Dove*After a long day of work, I couldn’t be more excited to get home to my husband to see what he plans on doing with me tonight. The tips of my fingers are tingling with excitement as I grip the steering wheel tight, getting lost in thought about what tonight could potentially lead to. I’m glad I was able to sit down with Amy and Sabrina to let them know everything in my life is back on track. I needed it, and if it weren’t for their support, I would’ve been a mess waiting for Miles to reach out to me after he stormed out of the penthouse. I couldn’t thank my best friends enough. However, I’m still a little on edge after the odd interaction I had with Dylan this afternoon. He is not one to back down or give in easily, so the fact that he willingly walked away when I told him I wasn’t able to talk to him is a little concerning. I couldn’t read his features because they were stoic, so I wasn’t able to try and get an understanding of what could be going through his mind.
*Dove*When I step into the penthouse, the aroma of spices hits my sinuses. I smile when I hear Miles curse from the kitchen. I shake my head and drop my handbag by the front door. What is this man up to?I pad along the floorboards until I reach the kitchen where I find Miles hovering over the stovetop with his back to me. Deciding I want to enjoy this moment of my husband cooking me dinner, I lean against the wall and fold my arms over my chest. He’s still wearing a black button-down from work but he has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing the thick veins lining his forearms.God, I hope he has a few buttons undone. It drives me crazy when he wears his shirt like that.His hair is a mess atop his head, likely from the stress of trying to cook dinner before I got home. Talking to Dylan downstairs just now gave him some extra time to finish up, but it seems something is going wrong if he’s cursing loud enough for me to hear across the penthouse. “Is everything
*Dove*It’s been a week since the night Dylan apologized for the way he treated me after my assault and the things he has done since. True to his word, he has changed his ways. He is no longer belittling me or making me complete stupid tasks at work. He has treated me like every other employee and that’s all I could have ever asked for. I don’t want him to give me special treatment now that he’s admitted to his wrongs—I just want him to treat me like everyone else.Miles and I have grown closer this past week—if that’s even possible as a married couple. It just feels like everything is falling into place with us now. We have our routine that we do each day—we eat dinner together, have a drink, and then watch a movie if we’re not trying to rip each other’s clothes off. I know we’re still in our honeymoon phase, but God I hope this feeling of excitement whenever he’s around and the need to be near him at all times never fades. I’m so in love with this man and I couldn’t be luck
*Dove*“She is dying.”Three words that had altered my brain chemistry for what would likely be the rest of my life. I had stood at the end of the bed of my unconscious mother as the doctor told me that she was most likely not going to make it.For weeks I had been telling her to get checked. I had told her that she needed to be seen but she had told me she was fine. I should’ve pushed her further. I should’ve done—“Okay, Miss Andrews,” the personal banker came back into the office with a file in her hand, interrupting my thoughts. “We have looked at your application but it seems we cannot in good conscience allow you to take out this loan.”I blinked at her, my hand gripped the handle of the coffee mug they had given me tighter. My knuckles turned white, my heart clambering hard in my chest as the weight of her words settle over me.“I’m sorry?” I had heard her but I just could not believe what she was telling me.The lady cleared her throat, shifting in her leather chair un
I stared at the man like he was out of his damn mind because surely he had not just said what I thought he had.“I’m sorry,” I laughed, “did you just ask me to marry you?”I expected him to break out into a fit of laughter but his face stayed serious. He just stared at me with those eyes that seemed far too brilliant to be real.“Yes, I did.” He just sat there casually like he was talking about the weather.“You…you…I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you.”“My name is Miles. There, now you know me.”I rolled my eyes, “I think I would need a little more than just your name in order for me to marry you. And you don’t even know me.”“Well, that’s not all the way true.” He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. “You seem to be kind and sweet soul, possibly too kind and set for this calloused world. And if I’m being quite frank those kinds of people are far from murderers and con artists. Besides, you have this nervous look in your eyes that makes me believe that you are