I was discharged the next morning after being given a few pain killers and had to undergo another CT scan just to he sure there were no anomalies in my brain and it was recovering from the trauma just fine. Roman arrived the next morning with a change of clothes for me, back to his cold self and even seemed to be in a worse mood. I thanked him for the clothes and changed. It was a loose red shirt and some black shorts, he didn't bring a bra or underwear. My cheeks heated up as i thought about him going through them before eventually deciding against it. I took a bath, grateful the hospital room was en suite. Very expensive as well. When I saw the bill for just one night I'd almost panicked. The health system is fucked, and I need to trying my best to stay well. Watching Roman pay the bills left me feeling indebted to him, and I knew I would have to pay or my mind wouldn't be at peace. Roman didn't say a word to me, but he didn't help me gather the rest of my
ROMANHer mouth… Her fucking lips were like ambrosia. The deeper I went in the more I wanted them. It was so soft, so warm and she fit perfectly against me. She tasted of lemons and fuck it was an addictive taste. Her tongue slithered against mine, not backing down, kissing me with as much fervor as I kissed her. I felt her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me lower to her height, my chest pressed against hers and I could feel her pebbled nipples poke through her shirt. She shuddered, releasing a small sound into our kiss and melting deeper into my arms. I didn't realize I was holding her waist, I didn't realize just how tightly I held her to me. Her teeth grazed my bottom lip and I felt my dick jump in my pants and– damn it! What are you doing, Roman?! My mind was clear, yelling at me, telling me to pull away but my body? My body wanted Amelia so damn much! My fingers explored her curves and then reached up to her hair, enjoying the little sounds she made when I ni
AMELIAWhat the fuck just happened? I put my palm to my palm to my chest, feeling how my heart pounded like I'd just run a marathon. I watched the door close shut and the scent of food filled the air. Yet, it barely registered as I was more focused on getting my lungs to work properly as well as my brain. My lips were tingling, a clear sign that the kiss was not just from my imagination. It was real, it happened and I…liked it? Did I? Fuck yeah you did! And you wanted more! “This can't be happening,” I shook my head, “I don't…like Roman,” I mumbled, I probably looked like a mad woman talking to herself as I paced the room and ran my fingers through my hair, making it even more disheveled. “I don't!” I voiced out, “It's…maybe it's something else?” Still, I could feel my heart racing and the ghost of feelings I couldn't remember. How did it happen? How did I fall in love with him in the past? And again, what the fuck just happened? Why did he taste so good? Why did m
NINE YEARS AGO The day my world shattered wasn't marked by storm clouds or ominous signs. Instead, the sun shone with cruel indifference, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness gnawing at my chest at. I stood before the mirror in my bedroom, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. Her long black hair hung limp around a face too pale, too thin. Dark circles beneath eyes red-rimmed and a red nose from four nights of endless tears. I smoothed down the front of my simple black dress, the fabric feeling foreign against my skin. At sixteen, I'd never owned anything so somber. Mom would have hated it. She always said black washed me out, insisting I wear vibrant colors that "brought out the sparkle" in my green eyes. I'd always argue that my eyes had no sparkle, but she would make me wear the brighter shades nonetheless. But Mom wasn't here anymore. And today, I'd watch as they lowered her into the ground. A soft knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts.
"I'm Bertha," she said, her tone friendly but with a hint of something I couldn't quite place. "And you must be Amelia. It's nice to finally meet you," She smiled, holding out a hand and further deepening my confused state. Before I could respond, heavy footsteps approached, and my father appeared behind Bertha. The change in his demeanor was so jarring it made me blink in disbelief. Gone was the broken man I'd glimpsed at the cemetery. Instead, his face was lit with a smile broader and more genuine than any I'd seen in years. "Ah, Bertha! I see you found the room on your own," he said, his voice warm with affection. He placed a hand on her shoulder, the casual intimacy of the gesture making my stomach churn. "What do you think? It's the second largest bedroom in the house." Bertha glanced around, taking in the pale blue walls, the window seat overlooking the garden, the bookshelf crammed with my favorite novels. "I like it," she declared with a nod. "Much better than the other
Roman didn't come back to his house for three days, a decision I was grateful for because I wasn't sure how to face him now that he plagued my dreams like a fucking disease after that stupid kiss. I never should have let it happen, most especially before I made a bet that I wouldn't bail on this farce. The opening of the department stores was in two days, and I had no idea how I was going to walk into that place, hand in hand with a man I could not face. “Is there something bothering you, Miss Amelia?” Trenton asked as he handed me a glass of water and sat on the stool next to me. I met the man's kind eyes and forced a smile. “Not really…” I muttered, staring down my fiddling fingers. A bad habit I had when something was bothering me. No doubt, Trenton knew me well enough to know as well. “Actually…” I turned to look at Trenton with a curious gaze, “I do have a question,” Trenton nodded. “Why are you here?” I asked, “I mean, how did you end up being the Wellin
Three whole days he didn't come home and the one time he did? He brought Bertha with him. From what Trenton said, it seemed like this wasn't the first time. If he knew I loved him so much that such a sight would bother me…why doesn't he have the common courtesy to keep his mistress out of what's supposed to be a matrimonial home? “Why are you getting so upset?” Jessica asked from over the phone as she heard my ramblings, no doubt eager for me to shut my pie hole and talk about the vacation instead. I shook my head, though I knew she didn't see me, “No, I'm not upset,” I lied. “I'm just irritated by her presence, that's all,” I replied and then let out a heavy sigh, propping up the pillow behind my head so I would be more comfortable. “I just mean, he brought her here yesterday, we have an important event to discuss and prepare for tomorrow…does he plan on taking her?” I scoffed, biting noisily through the chips in my hand. I heard Jessica laugh, “It doesn't matter,
ROMANFIVE YEARS EARLIER I stared out the window of my Moscow apartment, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The cool glass pressed against my forehead as I sighed, my breath fogging up the pane. My phone buzzed insistently on the nearby table, my father's name flashing on the screen. I knew I should answer it. I'd been avoiding my family's calls for weeks now, making excuses about being too busy with work. But the truth was, I just didn't want to talk to them. Every conversation left me feeling drained and irritated. The buzzing stopped, then started again almost immediately. I groaned, pushing myself away from the window and grabbing the phone. "Hello, Father," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "Roman! Finally, you answer. I've been trying to reach you for days," my father's gruff voice came through the speaker. "I've been busy. You know how it is with work," I replied, the lie coming easily to my lips. "Too busy to talk to your own father? Th