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158. The night is young
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Tuberose 159. Shattered heart and Maybe moved on
***4 months later*** Abigail's POV - It's been four long months since I've been living under William's watchful eye. Surprisingly, he hasn't made any advances, at least not forcefully. I've come to realize that he's not the type to push things, even though he clearly desires me. In these months, I've learned a lot about him, especially when it comes to his soft spot for children. His care and concern for Jullie are undeniable. What worries me deeply is Jullie's declining health. I've secretly been in contact with her doctor, trying to gather information and offer any help I can. Strangely, William hasn't imposed any restrictions on me. We're bound by a simple agreement: He won't reveal Ema and Michael's pictures to the media, and in return, I remain in his gilded cage. It's not that I had much of a choice. Disobeying would not only jeopardize my own safety but could also harm Michael's business, and that, in turn, would impact my ailing father's fragile health. I can't bear the tho
Tuberose 160. Aching Heart
Abigail's pov - My phone rings, breaking the stillness of my day. I glance at the screen, and my heart leaps with joy. It's Chloe calling. I quickly answer, needing the connection to my old life, to the friend who understands me like no one else. "Chloe!" I exclaim, my voice filled with warmth and longing. "How are you?" "Abby!" Chloe's voice on the other end is equally filled with emotion. "Oh, I've missed you so much! It feels like it's been ages since we talked." Tears well up in my eyes as I confess, "I've missed you too, Chloe. More than you can imagine." We share a heartfelt conversation, catching up on each other's lives. Chloe asks about my health, and I assure her that I'm doing okay, even though it's been a challenging time. "And what about you?" I inquire. "How's everything with Jack?" Chloe's voice takes on a happy lilt as she replies, "Actually, Abby, we have some exciting news. Jack and I have decided to get married next week!" My heart soars with happiness for my
Tuberose 161. The man of life
***mature content*** Chloe's POV - As I step into the church, my heart races with anticipation. Today is the day I've been dreaming of since I was a little girl, and it's finally here. I glance around at the beautifully adorned pews, the soft, romantic lighting, and the fragrant flowers that line the aisle. It's all so perfect, and I can't help but smile. My gaze falls upon Jack, standing at the altar, looking incredibly handsome in his suit. He's my rock, my superhero, and now he's about to become my husband. The thought fills me with a sense of joy and contentment that I can't put into words. The music begins to play, signaling the start of the ceremony. I take a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness wash over me. My father, who is proudly escorting me down the aisle, squeezes my hand reassuringly. As I make my way towards Jack, I can't tear my eyes away from him. He's the love of my life, and I can't believe I'm about to marry him. The world seems to fade
Tuberose 162. Satisfaction
Jack's POV -Finally, Chloe is my wife. I can't express my gratitude to God for giving me her as my life partner. She is closing her eyes with trembling lips which are surely craving to be smashed by my lips. I follow her wish and it takes minimal time when I find my hands to explore her skin.I squeeze her boobs by moving away from her strapless bra. "Ummph. J-Jack." She releases a sweet moan and I explore her mouth with my tongue. Her erect nipples are being kneaded into my palms and I am grinding her core with mine. The room is turning hotter though the temperature is enough to make anyone cover themselves with blankets.I trail my kisses from her chin to her neck and lead my right hand to her pussy. Once I insert my finger inside her panty, I realize that she is already wet and a smirk appears on my lips. I intake her right nipple in my mouth and keep rubbing her clit to bring her on the edge."Argh, Jack. Just do it already." It's not only me but she is also desperate after a whil
Tuberose 163. How can I get her back?
Ema's POV -My heart races as Michael's strong arms cradle me in a bridal carry, carrying me towards the bedroom. The anticipation in the air fuels the heat building between us, and my breath catches as he gently lowers me onto the bed. Our kisses are electric, igniting a passionate fire that has long smoldered between us. His lips find mine, trailing a burning path from my mouth to my neck, igniting my skin with each touch. My heaving chest is showing my excitement and longing.The intensity of our connection is electrifying, but then something shifts. As Michael gets on his knees between my legs and spreads them apart, his gaze transforms into something sinister, a wolfish glare that sends shivers down my spine. His eyes, once filled with desire, are now filled with a burning hatred that pierces right through me."So, it was you," he hisses, his voice dripping with venom. "All of it was a trap."Fear claws at my throat, rendering me speechless. I struggle to grasp the meaning behind
Tuberose 164. Self-Vow
Michael's POV -I speed down the familiar winding road, the trees, and fields a blur of green and brown as I make my way to the farmhouse. I don't want to face my dad right now, not after everything. They were all right – Dad, Jack, everyone – they were all right about Abigail. She didn't cheat on me, and I didn't listen to anyone.I glance at my phone and see Abigail's photo. I reach out and touch it as if I can somehow reach through the screen and find her, asking for her forgiveness. My throat tightens, and I can feel the lump building as I recall the things I've said and done to her. I called her terrible names – slut, whore, prostitute, escort – and for what? Because I let my insecurities and doubts get the best of me.And then there's the unforgivable act, the one that haunts me the most. I pushed her, physically pushed her, and it led to the loss of our unborn child. I can't keep calling it an accident. I can't keep pretending that I wasn't responsible. I killed our baby.I pull
Tuberose 165. Regression
Michael's POV -We sat there, a trio of worry etched into our faces, waiting outside the hospital cabin. My anxiety is palpable; I keep fidgeting with my hands, glancing at my phone as if time is passing too slowly.Then, like a breath of fresh air in this tense atmosphere, Abigail appears. My heart skips a beat as she runs toward us. She envelops Chloe in a tight hug and asks the question that has been haunting all our minds."Chloe, how's Mr. Pattinson doing?" Abigail inquires, her voice laced with genuine concern.Chloe, her eyes reflecting relief and exhaustion, gives Abigail a reassuring smile. "He's stable now, Abigail. The doctor says he'll need to stay for a few days, though."Jack, who has been silently observing the scene, adds, "It's a relief. He gave us quite a scare."The doctor emerges from the cabin, a briefcase in hand, and approaches us. "I understand you're concerned about Mr. Pattinson. He's stable now, as I mentioned earlier. We've conducted some tests, and it appe
Tuberose 166. Will make her mine, anyhow.
Michael's POV -Five days have passed since Dad's discharge from the hospital. During those days, I had the chance to see Abigail when she visited him. Each fleeting moment with her was like a bittersweet taste of the past, a reminder of what I had lost. Now, those moments would be gone, and I couldn't bring myself to reach out to her.After dinner, I find myself drawn to Abigail's study table, surrounded by all the things she loves. I had kept her favorite items here for all these months, a silent tribute to the love I had allowed to slip away. I touch each item with a mixture of love and regret as if by doing so, I can somehow turn back time.Unable to sign the divorce papers, I open a drawer and discover a collection of diaries, each one engraved with a number, from 1 to 9. Abigail's diaries, I assume. It feels wrong to invade her privacy, but a longing to understand her more fully overcomes me.The diary opens to a page when she was just eight years old. Her words paint a picture o
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