Chapter Ninety-Nine

It seemed like he was solving a problem when he had married Lana, compounding it when he had sent her packing, all in a desperate bid to always fulfil his mother’s wish. He regretted accepting the post in the first place.

Kathy stirred in bed, her soft white skin brushing against his rough skin. He had come home and apologised, and they had made love with one another in the tenderest way he had ever experienced from her.

The sex from last night—every bit of it—and he relived it all. The electric shock rippling through his skin every time she touched him, the otherworldly feeling he had any time their lips connected in a kiss, the jolt he felt in every thrust, how he felt on top of the world as he approached orgasm.

He looked at his lover, his heart leaping for joy, merely looking for joy. The sun was already up and shining brightly. He pulled out from her grip, gentle enough not to awaken her from her deep sleep; she was too sad, and when they made love, she gave her all. He wondered