Whispered Desires

Chapter 49: The End Of All Things

Jasmine

I always knew I'd make it.

I always knew I'd achieve everything I wanted to, that my life was under my control, and that hard work was what would bring me to where I wanted to be.

And that's exactly what I did. I took fate into my own hands and built myself the life I dreamed of, with a skyrocketing career and a best friend who would forever be by my side.

Things changed when Mila met Hayden, and after a while I had to admit I hated that she wasn't a part of my daily life anymore. She was one half to a whole now. Mila found her match, and she was ready to leave the life she was living to pursue something much, much bigger.

Marriage or a steady life have never been on my agenda. I never wanted to be the Mrs. to a man, the subject to a patriarchal society. My whole life I fought the suppression of anyone identifying as a woman — why would I sacrifice that independence for the horrendously wrong image of safety in a relationship bound by law, or even worse, God?

I was my own woman, after all. I wouldn't let anyone tell me otherwise.

Well, now that I'm married and sharing my life with a man...

That hasn't changed one bit.

"Hey, Venus!" Kilian's voice rips me out of my thoughts, his lips curled into a grin as he wiggles a glass bottle in his hand. "Look what I found."

He slumps onto the sofa and waits for me to sprawl my legs over his lap. "What is it?" I ask as he hands me the bottle, the intricate label staring back at me now.

"You don't remember?" he asks with a laugh.

"Remember what?" I furrow my brows as his grin spreads even wider, amusement now sparkling in his eyes.

"Hayden's birthday, the first time we met?"

As soon as the words leave his lips, the penny drops. "Oh! Yeah!" I can't help but laugh now. "Don't tell me this is—"

"Yep, that's the very same vodka you almost threw in my face. That shit hurt. Both here," he taps his temple before doing the same on his chest, right above his heart. "And here." Kilian's chuckle vibrates straight through me and I join right in, the memory of that certain night now dancing in my mind.

"Well, your pickup line was boring as hell." I shrug, pouring each of us a glass. "I see you've got yourself some vodka. Does that mean you're Russian out of here with me? I mean, really?" I laugh at the reminder of my husband's quirky side, and soon he joins in, both of us now trying hard not to spill the drinks in our hands. "Did that one ever work on anyone?"

"No..." Kilian wipes a happy tear off his eye, still trying to contain his laughter. "I don't think so. Pretty sure I came up with it on the spot, honestly."

"Really? Kilian Rogers didn't have the right line in store to pick up a girl?"

He shakes his head and motions his glass to me, the sound of our clinking glasses echoing around us. "Well, maybe that's just it," he says, taking a sip. "This wasn't a girl I was talking to, after all. It was a scary-as-fuck woman. That requires a whole different level of pickup lines. I wasn't ready for that."

A smile plays on my lips from the amusement radiating off him, but I don't miss the implications of that statement, and what exactly it tells me.

Kilian knew I wasn't what he played for back then, and that fact alone shows he knows me inside and out, probably even more than he realizes. I've always been afraid of being seen as one of them, of being a woman that's anything but independent and strong. Kilian, and everything he stood for when I met him that day, seemed like my worst nightmare.