𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 [𝟏𝟖+] ✓

38

5.5K words chapter. Just saying that's like twice of what most writers write lmao and it took me three hours to write it. Cut me some slack and don't call it "too short".

I can't believe this is 7th chapter without smut lmao

Anyway 450 comments and I'll update :P

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Hayden Evans

'Only my wife has the generosity to be right by my side when I wake from an accident in full body cast and remind me childbirth is still more painful!?' Tweeted Rodger, an hour back.

Liam commented under Rodger's tweet. 'This is exactly why I told you to cover your hose before you curl her toes, Son.'

Lucien, my second cousin, always excited to drag Liam, countered with a comment, 'The only reason the poked condoms you use aren't affecting is that you've no swimmers.'

Below which, Nicholas Hurley replied with an emotional damage meme.

Scrolling past their thread, I twisted my neck to look at the stubborn woman I had vowed to take as my wife for better or for worse. With her neck and body arched at a rather painful angle, she doused off on the headrest of the sofa, tucking her legs behind her knees. Come morning and she would whine about the tick on her neck.

Shifting a little closer to her side, I reached for her arm and gently pulled her so she could sleep properly, but she ended up landing her head on my lap, just like in the old times. Fighting the rage, the instinct to rise, I rested my palm gently on her arm as she snuggled her head on my thighs, not wanting to disturb this moment. Moments like this — short, silly, nameless, yet priceless all the same.

My gaze drifted to her left hand, and I started counting the scars on her wrist to be sure she hadn't given in to the urges again. Pride flared in me when I realised she hadn't cut herself, not even after her encounter with Rita Cerak.

Being the idiot she was, she could never fully comprehend the depths of my emotions. She wouldn't understand what it was like to see her hurt. The fact that she raised a gun at me wasn't even what had my blood boiling these days. Because I knew she didn't have it in her to shoot me.

However, the fact that she refused to talk rubbed me up the wrong way. Despite everything I had done to unbreak her and offer her as much comfort as I could, this stubborn idiot wouldn't tell me why Gladys tried to kill me.

Judging from the cut on Katrina's leg, Gladys' corpse, knives scattered around and the floor which was streaked with blood, whatever had happened in there was foul. And it was bound to chase her in the name of trauma. The rueful part was it wasn't just me. She had been sheltering herself from everyone.