The rest of that evening after I saw Marcus from the window felt like I was carrying an extra weight in my chest. I smiled at Damien when he finished his call, let him pull me onto the couch, and curled into his side like nothing was wrong. But inside, everything was screaming.
I was tired of the secrets. Tired of deleting messages, hiding encounters, and pretending I wasn’t scared that one wrong move would shatter everything we’d been rebuilding. Tonight, I didn’t want to talk anymore. I wanted to show him with my body, with my voice, with every moan and plea that I was still here, still choosing him completely.
After dinner, I took his hand and led him upstairs without a word. Damien followed, a small question in his eyes, but he didn’t resist.
In the bedroom, I pushed the door shut a
