ounding in her head, a dull ache that matched the weight in her chest. She opened her

n-she s

se

next t

he had been watching her sleep, maybe wai

y," he sa

way, pulling the sheet slightly over her

nked.

ry time you say it, I remember what yo

vously with the edge of the pillow. "Then... what if you to

ra f

ha

n't know-slept with someone else

ting up sharply. Her voice crack

uth opened,

u think I'd give myself to someone else just to get back at you? Lik

no! That's not what

ogether for three months. That might not be long for you, but fo

ze, ashamed. "I'm sorr

ime it was

t from the pain of betrayal anymore, but from the insult buried in his words.

ow what else to say,"

snapped. "Because that?

ly, eyes lowere

about principle. About how little he seemed to understand

with

with h

in, lying back down

.

he went to the bathr

with a towel

d went to her smili

smile on her face still not s

rd him. She stiffened for a moment but didn't pull away. His presence was fam

comforting but now seemed weighted with unspoken apologies and regret. "Y

he was still processing, still holding onto the remnants of anger and hurt. But his touch-his closeness-

searching hers. "I don't know what else to do, San

away, wanted to yell at him again, but the sincerity in

never let him touch her again, and wanting to feel

stood there, her body pressed against his, a c

ble. "Do you really want to fix it? Or do you

ny apology he'd given her. She waited, eyes

"Anything you want, Sandra," he said, his voice steady yet laced with hesitation. "

kissing him back. The familiarity of his touch, the warmth of his body, and the desperation in his mo

ad been left unsaid, seemed to fall away. The apology was there, buried under la

guide her back toward the bed. Her towel slipped off, the cool air hitting her skin as she was laid back, expo

et in this moment, she allowed herself to be tender, to be with him. Joseph's gaze moved over her, like he was memorizing her al

in. "Don't stop," she whispered, the words almost a plea, her voice trembli

raw, filled with something unsaid between them. It wasn't just about physicality-it was

l. Sandra felt herself surrendering, bit by bit, to the pull of his body, the heat of his presence overwhelming. Every kiss was a soft plea, every caress

l the times he hadn't been there, all the moments he'd let slip through his fingers. But it wasn't just abou

lling her closer, making her forget the anger, the hurt. There was a rawness to it, something that

t wasn't a feeling of complete resolution-far from it. But it was a sense of connection, of something deeper that ha

hocks of what they had shared. Joseph's arms were around her, his touch gentle now, as

of them in this moment of fragile intimacy. Sandra couldn't help but wonder if it was enoug

ice broke the silence, his

re. But in this moment, lying there with him, she felt something she hadn't

ly whispered, her voice t

ak of finality or closure but of possibility. And for the first time in what felt l