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Ana's legs were trembling,.
Her chest rising and falling in desperate gasps as she leaned against the wall, dazed.
But Mr Kings wasn’t giving her space..not now.
His mouth crashed into hers again, this time slower but deeper, almost claiming her soul with every kiss.
He lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back to the cold wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“I hate that I still want you,” she whispered against his lips, voice cracking.
“Then hate me while you moan my name,”he growled,.
Lining himself against her heat, teasing her just enough to drive her insane.
“Charlie...” she whimpered..half warning, half desperation.
His name on her lips ignited something dark and dangerous in him.
Without another word, he thrust into her in one slow, brutal stroke.
Ana cried out, back arching.
He filled her completely..like he always did.
Like he was made to ruin her, body and soul.
“Say it,”he grunted, slamming into her again, and again, each stroke deeper than the last.
“Tell me it’s mine.”
“No...” she gasped, fighting herself, fighting him.
But her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer.
Her walls clenched around him, betraying her.
“Tell me, this p**sy is mine only”he demanded, kissing her jaw, her throat, every soft part of her he missed.
“It's yours...”she finally breathed.
“It’s always been yours, Charlie....but...but..after ...t ..this it's..not going to be yours...”
He groaned, losing control, pounding into her with reckless need.
Their bodies slapped together, fast and desperate, breath mixing, hands clawing, hearts breaking and burning.
" Oh... fuck.. I'm so close, yes!..AHH"
She came again,.
" CHARLIE.....I ..HATE Y.."
Harder this time crying his name as her whole body shook in his arms.
And when he came,.
He buried his face in her neck,.
Groaning her name like a prayer, like a curse, like a man who had just found salvation in the woman he destroyed.
***
-
When he finally let her go.
Ana rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
A tear rolled down her cheek, unknowingly.
She put a hand over her mouth, cursing herself under her breath.
How could she let him touch her? .
How could she enjoy his touch?.
How could she enjoy the sex?.
How could she enjoy everything?
After tonight, he was going to be someone else’s husband.
It wasn't supposed to be that easy.
And the ring he gave Fatima that should’ve sealed the deal.
He was taken.
Claimed.
So how could she let him touch her again?
How could she open her legs for him again?
It was insane. All of it.
She shook her head hard, stepped into the shower, and turned the hot water all the way up.
She stood there as it poured down her skin.
It burned, but she didn’t flinch.
She needed to feel that sting.
She deserved it.
How could she let him have her again?
After everything after the pain, the tears, after he had broken her again she still let him in.
That same night.
Mr. Kings’s knock echoed through the door.
“Ana,” he called gently.
“Are you okay? Please open the door. Can I come in?”
She said nothing.
The sound of the shower was her answer, and it cut through him.
He stood there, torn, his forehead resting against the door.
But he didn’t go in.
What could he even say?
Minutes later, Ana walked out, a towel wrapped tightly around her body.
Her eyes were fixed on the floor, shame radiating off her.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
Mr. King stood there, watching her silently.
He opened his mouth, then shut it again.
There were no words big enough for this kind of ruin.
She walked into the closet and pulled out the nightdress.
With his eyes on her, .
She slipped it on slowly, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into her skin.
When she turned to face him, her eyes lingered on him for a second… before she looked away, swallowing hard.
She felt insane.
Too easy.
Maybe even desperate.
That’s what it felt like.
“I think you should leave,” her voice came low,.
“Please, Charlie. Just go.”
Her fingers pointed toward the door, trembling slightly.
“Not everything can be fixed with sex,” she continued.
“Just because I let you touch me... just because you have me… yes, I enjoy it..God, I do..but that doesn’t mean I forget. Or forgive.”
He didn’t move.
She hated that.
“I promise, Ana,” he finally said.
“I’ll leave. Just… you gave me this one night. One night to watch you close. To feel you in my arms. After this, I’ll go. You’ll never see me again. I’ll disappear if that’s what you want...”
“That’s not what I want, Charlie,” she snapped, cutting him off, her voice rising.
“Then why are you acting like it is?” he asked, desperate.
“No I'm not you are, I want the truth! I want you to be honest with me. Tell me what’s going on. Stop hiding behind sex and promises and silence!” she said,.
She let out a bitter laugh and turned away, trying to gather herself.
Her breath shook as she exhaled.
“You know what? It’s pointless,” she whispered.
“It’s clear you’re not here to talk. You're not ready. So just leave. I want to sleep. Your wedding’s tomorrow, right? You should be preparing. Just… go.”
She climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over her head.
When he didn’t move, she sighed. “Are you going to stand there forever?”
“Yes,” he murmured.
“If that’s what it takes. If you don’t want me in that bed, then I’ll sleep here. I’ll sit on this couch and wait for morning. Then I’ll leave. And you’ll never see me again.”
Ana rolled her eyes, tired and frustrated.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
She turned away, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her under.
Sleep came quickly emotional drain had a way of doing that.
Mr. Kings sat silently on the couch nearby, watching her in the dim light.
His shirt still lay on the floor where she had pulled it off earlier.
He bent down, picked it up slowly, then stood.
He walked to the bed, gently peeling the covers from over her head.
Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful.
A small, broken smile tugged at his lips.
Without a word, he slid into the bed beside her.
Carefully, he pulled her into his arms.
She stirred slightly, like she might fight him even in sleep.
But he held her tighter, resting his forehead against the back of her head.
He didn’t say anything.
**
4 a.m.
He was still awake.
Sleep refused to come.
His head was a battlefield thoughts colliding, too loud, too heavy.
Nothing was quiet in there.
Nothing was still.
He glanced down at Ana.
She was curled up against him, snoring softly.
Her head rested on his chest, her hand wrapped loosely around his waist.
Did she even know she was holding him like that? Or maybe, in her sleep, she thought she was clinging to a pillow… or a doll?
He chuckled quietly at the thought, shaking his head.
With slow tenderness, he reached up and brushed strands of damp hair from her face, fingers gliding across her cheek.
She hadn’t even dried her hair before falling asleep.
He noticed the pillow beneath her was wet from it.
Gently, he slid her head from the damp spot and replaced it with a fresh pillow.
It was still not completely dry, but better.
He sighed deeply, the weight in his chest heavier than ever.
Carefully, he eased her arms off him and slipped out of the bed.
She shifted slightly, murmured something ,but didn’t wake.
He stood there for a moment, watching her committing the shape of her to memory.
Then, without a sound, he opened the door.
The faint creak of it closing behind him stirred her, just slightly.
She didn’t wake fully. Not yet.
He stepped into the living room.
The lights snapped on.
And there sitting on the couch was Alison.
“She let you touch her after everything you did,” Alison finally said this time slower, angrier.
“You think that means she forgives you? No, Charlie. She was proving something. To you. To herself”
Mr. King swallowed hard.
“I know.” His voice cracked.
“Do you?” Alison stepped forward, his tone rising.
“Because I don’t think you fucking get it. She’s not the same Ana . You broke her, man. Over and over. And still… she let you in. She let you have her. And you think that’s a joke?”
Mr. King looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
“I’m sure you hate me,” he said quietly.
Alison laughed .
“I do hate you right now. I hate what you’ve done to her. What you made her become. And the worst part? You don’t even hate yourself enough.”
Mr. King finally looked up, his eyes red. “I do. I swear to God, I do. You think I walked out of that room proud of what happened? You think I’m celebrating the fact that the woman I love had to use one last night to finally let me go?”
Alison stared at him, fists clenched.
“Then why are you still standing here?”
Silence fell.
Then Mr. King took a breath.
“Because I don’t know how to walk away. Because I know I don’t deserve her. But I can’t stop loving her.”
Allison shook his head.
“Then start by respecting her. Stay away unless you're coming back with the truth. Not half of it. All of it.”
They both kept quiet for a bit before Alison broke the silence.
“You know it’s not too late, . You two aren’t married yet. It’s just an engagement that you did. Yet she didn’t put a ring on you, but you put one on her. So that means nothing. You’re not a husband yet. You still have the power to break it all. You still have the power to let go of everything and be with the person you love. Just think about it. Cancel all of this. Whatever bullshit you are doing..try to cancel it. And be with the woman that you love instead of hurting yourself all the time. The more you hurt her, the more you’re hurting yourself” Alison said.
Mr. Kings’s fist clenched.
“I’m doing this for my mom,”he replied.
Alison scoffed.
“When did you become like that, Charlie? When did you become so fucking pathetic and weak? I’m sure Auntie never forced you to marry Fatima. You’re doing this because you want to.you enjoy it. Don’t blame Auntie for this. Last time I checked, she wasn’t awake. How did she tell you?"
"Through a letter?”
“And you believed it?” he asked.
“Huh? So you let everything go, marry her just because you want to marry her, just because of a letter you think Auntie wrote? Maybe she didn’t even write that letter. And you think you’re just going to throw everything away for that?”Alison continued.
Mr. King looked away.
"You know marrying Anna or being with Ana is going to come with a lot of trouble. Did you forget that? It’s going to be a lot of trouble and it’ll affect her.”he said softly.
Alison looked at him, cold. .
“Are you worried about yourself or about Ana? If you’re not going to sacrifice everything you have just to be with her then you do not love her. "
“I do love her,”Mr. Kings said,.
Alison didn’t blink.
“No you don’t.If you really,loved her, you’d be ready to break every rule, sacrifice everything for her. But you? It doesn’t look like you’re ready to do that. Because right now, maybe you’re just marrying Fatima to cover up this mess you created. But do you even realize that you’re hurting Anna in the process of saving yourself and your reputation?”
“I never meant to hurt her. I never meant to hurt Anna. Everything I’m doing is to protect her.” Mr. Kings’s voice was cracked.
Alison shook his head.
“No. You are not protecting Anna. Not at all. You’re hurting her over and over again, and you think that’s fine? No it’s not, and it will never be fine.”Alison stood up.
“I’m going to check on Joy,”he said, turning to leave.
“My mom is awake,” Mr. Kings said suddenly,.
Alison froze mid-step.
He turned slowly, eyebrows raised.
“Wait… what did you just say?”
Mr. Kings looked up at him, eyes red but steady.
“My mom. She’s awake. The doctor called me.”
“And you're just now saying this?”*Alison asked, stepping closer.
Mr. King sighed, rubbing his face. “I didn't know how to bring it up. I’m still trying to process it.”
“So let me get this straight,”*Alison said.
“You based your entire decision to marry Fatima on a letter you got while your mom was in a coma. And now that she’s awake, you're still standing here, acting like you're trapped in this bullshit?”
Mr. King didn’t respond.
“Go see her,” Alison said firmly.
“Talk to her. Ask her if she wrote that letter. Ask her if she really wanted you to sacrifice the woman you love just to protect some business or name.”
Mr. Kings's nodded, slowly. “I will.”
Alison stepped closer, voice softer now but still sharp.
“Charlie… if there’s even a chance that your mom didn’t write that letter, or that she never wanted this marriage ,you owe it to Ana to stop this now. Not later. Now.”
Mr. King's looked at the floor.
***
The next day, Ana stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light.
Her hand instinctively reached across the bedto where Mr. Kings had been sleeping the night before.
She sighed.
Cold.
He was gone.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself,.
Another sigh escaped her lips.
Last night... the way he touched her, the way he kissed her... the way he had put a ring on Fatima in front of her all the arguments.
It all flooded back in a rush.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face up toward the ceiling, then slowly placed a hand on her stomach.
A protective, soft gesture.
A small smile curled at her lips ,tender, bittersweet.
She couldn’t believe it.
She was carrying a little life inside her.
A little human being.
“I promise, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely audible,
“you’re going to stay away from your daddy. He’s never going to know about you. Not now... not ever. I’m sorry for doing this, but... I don’t think he deserves to know about you.”
Ana was still whispering softly to her flat tummy when a gentle knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she said quietly.
Joyce walked in with a warm smile.
She came over and sat beside Ana on the bed.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“I did. Good morning,” Ana replied with a soft smile.
“Morning. You look... calm,” Joyce said, tilting her head.
Ana nodded slowly. “I am, I guess.”
But then she looked away.
“What is it?” Joyce asked, watching her closely.
Ana hesitated. “I don’t know if I can even face you right now. I feel so… ashamed.”
“Ashamed of what?” Joyce frowned.
Ana sighed, cheeks turning red. “Of letting him touch me again. After everything. I know you hate it.”
Joyce chuckled lightly. “Was I too loud?” Ana asked, suddenly wide-eyed.
Joyce smirked. “Yes. You were.”
“Oh my God…” Ana groaned, covering her face with both hands.
“This is so embarrassing.”
Joyce grabbed her hand. “Wait..what is this?”
“What?” Ana asked, confused.
“Give me your hand,” Joyce said, eyes narrowing.
“Is that... a ring?”
“A ring?” Ana repeated, slowly looking down at her hand.
And then she froze.
There it was.
A ring.
Her heart stopped.
Her eyes widened.
“What the hell…” she whispered.
T....B..C
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Ana's legs were trembling,.
Her chest rising and falling in desperate gasps as she leaned against the wall, dazed.
But Mr Kings wasn’t giving her space..not now.
His mouth crashed into hers again, this time slower but deeper, almost claiming her soul with every kiss.
He lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back to the cold wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“I hate that I still want you,” she whispered against his lips, voice cracking.
“Then hate me while you moan my name,”he growled,.
Lining himself against her heat, teasing her just enough to drive her insane.
“Charlie...” she whimpered..half warning, half desperation.
His name on her lips ignited something dark and dangerous in him.
Without another word, he thrust into her in one slow, brutal stroke.
Ana cried out, back arching.
He filled her completely..like he always did.
Like he was made to ruin her, body and soul.
“Say it,”he grunted, slamming into her again, and again, each stroke deeper than the last.
“Tell me it’s mine.”
“No...” she gasped, fighting herself, fighting him.
But her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer.
Her walls clenched around him, betraying her.
“Tell me, this p**sy is mine only”he demanded, kissing her jaw, her throat, every soft part of her he missed.
“It's yours...”she finally breathed.
“It’s always been yours, Charlie....but...but..after ...t ..this it's..not going to be yours...”
He groaned, losing control, pounding into her with reckless need.
Their bodies slapped together, fast and desperate, breath mixing, hands clawing, hearts breaking and burning.
" Oh... fuck.. I'm so close, yes!..AHH"
She came again,.
" CHARLIE.....I ..HATE Y.."
Harder this time crying his name as her whole body shook in his arms.
And when he came,.
He buried his face in her neck,.
Groaning her name like a prayer, like a curse, like a man who had just found salvation in the woman he destroyed.
***
-
When he finally let her go.
Ana rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
A tear rolled down her cheek, unknowingly.
She put a hand over her mouth, cursing herself under her breath.
How could she let him touch her? .
How could she enjoy his touch?.
How could she enjoy the sex?.
How could she enjoy everything?
After tonight, he was going to be someone else’s husband.
It wasn't supposed to be that easy.
And the ring he gave Fatima that should’ve sealed the deal.
He was taken.
Claimed.
So how could she let him touch her again?
How could she open her legs for him again?
It was insane. All of it.
She shook her head hard, stepped into the shower, and turned the hot water all the way up.
She stood there as it poured down her skin.
It burned, but she didn’t flinch.
She needed to feel that sting.
She deserved it.
How could she let him have her again?
After everything after the pain, the tears, after he had broken her again she still let him in.
That same night.
Mr. Kings’s knock echoed through the door.
“Ana,” he called gently.
“Are you okay? Please open the door. Can I come in?”
She said nothing.
The sound of the shower was her answer, and it cut through him.
He stood there, torn, his forehead resting against the door.
But he didn’t go in.
What could he even say?
Minutes later, Ana walked out, a towel wrapped tightly around her body.
Her eyes were fixed on the floor, shame radiating off her.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
Mr. King stood there, watching her silently.
He opened his mouth, then shut it again.
There were no words big enough for this kind of ruin.
She walked into the closet and pulled out the nightdress.
With his eyes on her, .
She slipped it on slowly, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into her skin.
When she turned to face him, her eyes lingered on him for a second… before she looked away, swallowing hard.
She felt insane.
Too easy.
Maybe even desperate.
That’s what it felt like.
“I think you should leave,” her voice came low,.
“Please, Charlie. Just go.”
Her fingers pointed toward the door, trembling slightly.
“Not everything can be fixed with sex,” she continued.
“Just because I let you touch me... just because you have me… yes, I enjoy it..God, I do..but that doesn’t mean I forget. Or forgive.”
He didn’t move.
She hated that.
“I promise, Ana,” he finally said.
“I’ll leave. Just… you gave me this one night. One night to watch you close. To feel you in my arms. After this, I’ll go. You’ll never see me again. I’ll disappear if that’s what you want...”
“That’s not what I want, Charlie,” she snapped, cutting him off, her voice rising.
“Then why are you acting like it is?” he asked, desperate.
“No I'm not you are, I want the truth! I want you to be honest with me. Tell me what’s going on. Stop hiding behind sex and promises and silence!” she said,.
She let out a bitter laugh and turned away, trying to gather herself.
Her breath shook as she exhaled.
“You know what? It’s pointless,” she whispered.
“It’s clear you’re not here to talk. You're not ready. So just leave. I want to sleep. Your wedding’s tomorrow, right? You should be preparing. Just… go.”
She climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over her head.
When he didn’t move, she sighed. “Are you going to stand there forever?”
“Yes,” he murmured.
“If that’s what it takes. If you don’t want me in that bed, then I’ll sleep here. I’ll sit on this couch and wait for morning. Then I’ll leave. And you’ll never see me again.”
Ana rolled her eyes, tired and frustrated.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
She turned away, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her under.
Sleep came quickly emotional drain had a way of doing that.
Mr. Kings sat silently on the couch nearby, watching her in the dim light.
His shirt still lay on the floor where she had pulled it off earlier.
He bent down, picked it up slowly, then stood.
He walked to the bed, gently peeling the covers from over her head.
Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful.
A small, broken smile tugged at his lips.
Without a word, he slid into the bed beside her.
Carefully, he pulled her into his arms.
She stirred slightly, like she might fight him even in sleep.
But he held her tighter, resting his forehead against the back of her head.
He didn’t say anything.
**
4 a.m.
He was still awake.
Sleep refused to come.
His head was a battlefield thoughts colliding, too loud, too heavy.
Nothing was quiet in there.
Nothing was still.
He glanced down at Ana.
She was curled up against him, snoring softly.
Her head rested on his chest, her hand wrapped loosely around his waist.
Did she even know she was holding him like that? Or maybe, in her sleep, she thought she was clinging to a pillow… or a doll?
He chuckled quietly at the thought, shaking his head.
With slow tenderness, he reached up and brushed strands of damp hair from her face, fingers gliding across her cheek.
She hadn’t even dried her hair before falling asleep.
He noticed the pillow beneath her was wet from it.
Gently, he slid her head from the damp spot and replaced it with a fresh pillow.
It was still not completely dry, but better.
He sighed deeply, the weight in his chest heavier than ever.
Carefully, he eased her arms off him and slipped out of the bed.
She shifted slightly, murmured something ,but didn’t wake.
He stood there for a moment, watching her committing the shape of her to memory.
Then, without a sound, he opened the door.
The faint creak of it closing behind him stirred her, just slightly.
She didn’t wake fully. Not yet.
He stepped into the living room.
The lights snapped on.
And there sitting on the couch was Alison.
“She let you touch her after everything you did,” Alison finally said this time slower, angrier.
“You think that means she forgives you? No, Charlie. She was proving something. To you. To herself”
Mr. King swallowed hard.
“I know.” His voice cracked.
“Do you?” Alison stepped forward, his tone rising.
“Because I don’t think you fucking get it. She’s not the same Ana . You broke her, man. Over and over. And still… she let you in. She let you have her. And you think that’s a joke?”
Mr. King looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
“I’m sure you hate me,” he said quietly.
Alison laughed .
“I do hate you right now. I hate what you’ve done to her. What you made her become. And the worst part? You don’t even hate yourself enough.”
Mr. King finally looked up, his eyes red. “I do. I swear to God, I do. You think I walked out of that room proud of what happened? You think I’m celebrating the fact that the woman I love had to use one last night to finally let me go?”
Alison stared at him, fists clenched.
“Then why are you still standing here?”
Silence fell.
Then Mr. King took a breath.
“Because I don’t know how to walk away. Because I know I don’t deserve her. But I can’t stop loving her.”
Allison shook his head.
“Then start by respecting her. Stay away unless you're coming back with the truth. Not half of it. All of it.”
They both kept quiet for a bit before Alison broke the silence.
“You know it’s not too late, . You two aren’t married yet. It’s just an engagement that you did. Yet she didn’t put a ring on you, but you put one on her. So that means nothing. You’re not a husband yet. You still have the power to break it all. You still have the power to let go of everything and be with the person you love. Just think about it. Cancel all of this. Whatever bullshit you are doing..try to cancel it. And be with the woman that you love instead of hurting yourself all the time. The more you hurt her, the more you’re hurting yourself” Alison said.
Mr. Kings’s fist clenched.
“I’m doing this for my mom,”he replied.
Alison scoffed.
“When did you become like that, Charlie? When did you become so fucking pathetic and weak? I’m sure Auntie never forced you to marry Fatima. You’re doing this because you want to.you enjoy it. Don’t blame Auntie for this. Last time I checked, she wasn’t awake. How did she tell you?"
"Through a letter?”
“And you believed it?” he asked.
“Huh? So you let everything go, marry her just because you want to marry her, just because of a letter you think Auntie wrote? Maybe she didn’t even write that letter. And you think you’re just going to throw everything away for that?”Alison continued.
Mr. King looked away.
"You know marrying Anna or being with Ana is going to come with a lot of trouble. Did you forget that? It’s going to be a lot of trouble and it’ll affect her.”he said softly.
Alison looked at him, cold. .
“Are you worried about yourself or about Ana? If you’re not going to sacrifice everything you have just to be with her then you do not love her. "
“I do love her,”Mr. Kings said,.
Alison didn’t blink.
“No you don’t.If you really,loved her, you’d be ready to break every rule, sacrifice everything for her. But you? It doesn’t look like you’re ready to do that. Because right now, maybe you’re just marrying Fatima to cover up this mess you created. But do you even realize that you’re hurting Anna in the process of saving yourself and your reputation?”
“I never meant to hurt her. I never meant to hurt Anna. Everything I’m doing is to protect her.” Mr. Kings’s voice was cracked.
Alison shook his head.
“No. You are not protecting Anna. Not at all. You’re hurting her over and over again, and you think that’s fine? No it’s not, and it will never be fine.”Alison stood up.
“I’m going to check on Joy,”he said, turning to leave.
“My mom is awake,” Mr. Kings said suddenly,.
Alison froze mid-step.
He turned slowly, eyebrows raised.
“Wait… what did you just say?”
Mr. Kings looked up at him, eyes red but steady.
“My mom. She’s awake. The doctor called me.”
“And you're just now saying this?”*Alison asked, stepping closer.
Mr. King sighed, rubbing his face. “I didn't know how to bring it up. I’m still trying to process it.”
“So let me get this straight,”*Alison said.
“You based your entire decision to marry Fatima on a letter you got while your mom was in a coma. And now that she’s awake, you're still standing here, acting like you're trapped in this bullshit?”
Mr. King didn’t respond.
“Go see her,” Alison said firmly.
“Talk to her. Ask her if she wrote that letter. Ask her if she really wanted you to sacrifice the woman you love just to protect some business or name.”
Mr. Kings's nodded, slowly. “I will.”
Alison stepped closer, voice softer now but still sharp.
“Charlie… if there’s even a chance that your mom didn’t write that letter, or that she never wanted this marriage ,you owe it to Ana to stop this now. Not later. Now.”
Mr. King's looked at the floor.
***
The next day, Ana stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light.
Her hand instinctively reached across the bedto where Mr. Kings had been sleeping the night before.
She sighed.
Cold.
He was gone.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself,.
Another sigh escaped her lips.
Last night... the way he touched her, the way he kissed her... the way he had put a ring on Fatima in front of her all the arguments.
It all flooded back in a rush.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face up toward the ceiling, then slowly placed a hand on her stomach.
A protective, soft gesture.
A small smile curled at her lips ,tender, bittersweet.
She couldn’t believe it.
She was carrying a little life inside her.
A little human being.
“I promise, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely audible,
“you’re going to stay away from your daddy. He’s never going to know about you. Not now... not ever. I’m sorry for doing this, but... I don’t think he deserves to know about you.”
Ana was still whispering softly to her flat tummy when a gentle knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she said quietly.
Joyce walked in with a warm smile.
She came over and sat beside Ana on the bed.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“I did. Good morning,” Ana replied with a soft smile.
“Morning. You look... calm,” Joyce said, tilting her head.
Ana nodded slowly. “I am, I guess.”
But then she looked away.
“What is it?” Joyce asked, watching her closely.
Ana hesitated. “I don’t know if I can even face you right now. I feel so… ashamed.”
“Ashamed of what?” Joyce frowned.
Ana sighed, cheeks turning red. “Of letting him touch me again. After everything. I know you hate it.”
Joyce chuckled lightly. “Was I too loud?” Ana asked, suddenly wide-eyed.
Joyce smirked. “Yes. You were.”
“Oh my God…” Ana groaned, covering her face with both hands.
“This is so embarrassing.”
Joyce grabbed her hand. “Wait..what is this?”
“What?” Ana asked, confused.
“Give me your hand,” Joyce said, eyes narrowing.
“Is that... a ring?”
“A ring?” Ana repeated, slowly looking down at her hand.
And then she froze.
There it was.
A ring.
Her heart stopped.
Her eyes widened.
“What the hell…” she whispered.
T....B..C
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