A Ruin Of Roses (Used to be: My Mysterious Husband)

THIRTEEN

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟾:𝟺𝟹 𝙿.𝙼 𝙼𝙰𝚁 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝙹𝙰𝚇𝙾𝙽]

 I hold her face gently, her fragile chin cradled in my hand as I clean the blood from her hairline, her lip, and her nose. Her eyes, still clouded with the trauma of the recent events, glisten with unshed tears.

"I'm so stupid," she whispers, her voice trembling with self-blame.

I shake my head, trying to convey my earnest reassurance. "No, you're not. It wasn't your fault."

With a soft sigh, I continue to clean her wounds, my touch as gentle as possible. Her skin is delicate, her vulnerability more apparent than ever. I want to take away her pain, to erase the darkness of what just happened.

As I wipe her chin, she tries to change the subject, her voice wavering. "Is Jayden in bed?"

I understand that she's not ready to discuss the horrifying ordeal just yet, and I'm willing to follow her lead. "Yeah, he was worried about you. But I convinced him to go to sleep."

She exhales, her gaze fixed on a distant point. "It's hard to talk about how I got pregnant with him."

I stay silent, understanding that she's about to open up to me, to share her deepest and most painful memories. I listen, my presence a silent reassurance that I'm here to support her, no matter what she chooses to share.

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟹 𝙰.𝙼 𝙼𝙰𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝚝𝚑 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝙹𝙰𝚇𝙾𝙽]

I continue to run my fingers soothingly down her back, offering comfort in the midst of her pain. "That's not your fault," I insist, my voice filled with genuine empathy.

She whispers, her voice carrying the weight of confusion and sorrow, "I just don't understand why she doesn't want to leave him after what he did."

I grumble with frustration, my arms holding her close. "She's sick," I mutter, unable to comprehend the complexity of the situation.

Her grip on me tightens, and I can feel her body pressing against mine, the warmth and closeness a balm to our shared distress. Her soft voice breaks the silence again, and I'm filled with a warmth that transcends the chilling memory of what just occurred.

"How did I get this lucky?" she asks in a hushed tone, her gratitude palpable. "You're so supportive of me, and you're so good with Jayden. I feel so happy when you're around."

I brush her hair gently, a fond smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "I should be the one asking that," I mumble, my lips gently pressing against her head. She gazes up at me, her gray eyes slightly puffy and bloodshot from the tears she shed.

"I want to stay like this forever if I can," I confess, my voice filled with longing.

Her reply is a soft-spoken affirmation, her words carrying the same sentiment. "You'll get no arguments from me."

Reality dawns on us, and I notice the time. "Gosh, it's after midnight," I say, surprised by how time has flown.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she sighs, suddenly shifting her mood. She gently sits up and puts a bit of distance between us. "We should go to bed. You have work tomorrow," she says, the practicality of the situation taking precedence.

I watch her walk down the hall toward her room, a sense of respect for her boundaries, but the emotional connection we shared in that moment lingers, leaving me with a profound sense of affection and concern for the woman who has captivated my heart.

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟷:𝟷𝟻 𝙰.𝙼 𝙼𝙰𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝚝𝚑 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴]

Unable to fall asleep in the empty bed, my heart aches, longing for the warmth of Jaxon's touch. I sit up, the room cloaked in darkness, and listen quietly, hoping that maybe he feels the same way. The silence is heavy, and the emptiness of the room is suffocating.

Finally, I decide I can't stay away any longer. With each step, my determination grows, and I slowly walk out of my room and make my way across the hall. I gently knock on Jaxon's door, the sound barely louder than a whisper. I pause, my heart pounding with anticipation, hoping for a response.

"Come in," he mutters softly, his voice carrying a hint of yearning.

As I slowly open the door, I find him sitting up in bed. Moonlight filters through the window, casting an ethereal glow on him, making him look almost godlike. I take a deep breath, gathering my courage.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I..." I hesitate, searching for the right words. He slides over, wordlessly inviting me to join him on the bed. "I guess what I really wanted to ask is, will you hold me?" I finally manage to say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He nods, and his arms wrap around me as I settle down beside him. I slide closer, my leg gently sliding up his thigh and wrapping around him. I rest my head against his bare chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing as we meld into one.

He sighs, his body relaxing against mine, and I close my eyes. His heart beats rapidly, mirroring my own, but it's a comforting rhythm, a soothing lullaby that calms my racing thoughts. His fingers trace patterns up and down my back, soothing me, his touch making me feel safe and utterly comfortable.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice filled with genuine gratitude and affection. I press a gentle kiss to his chest, my lips brushing against his skin. In response, he kisses the top of my head, a tender caress that deepens the sense of intimacy between us.

In his embrace, I feel my tension dissipate, and I begin to truly relax. As I settle into his arms, I finally allow myself to drift into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in the security of his presence, and the warmth of his affection.