Page 91 of Heartless Sinner

I feel like I’ve fallen into an abyss of light where only pleasure exists and he keeps me there for as long as he can.

When we come, my body burns as if someone threw me into the sun, but Micah pulls me into his embrace and everything feels perfect. I realize that’s because everythingisperfect.

Later, in the early hours of the morning, we sit together on the veranda wrapped in a silk sheet. The fabric whispers against our skin, warm from our shared heat.

It's still dark, but the sunrise is approaching, the sky gradually shifting from velvet black to deep indigo. Stars still glitter over our heads like scattered diamonds, refusing to surrender to the approaching dawn.

Our surroundings have that still silence you enjoy and harness to reflect, broken only by the distant cry of seabirds and the gentle rustling of palm fronds in the breeze.

Micah has his arm around me, his skin radiating warmth through the thin silk. And I'm pressed against his chest, my head cradled between his arms.

As I listen to his heartbeat, I think about all the ways my life has changed. The steadythump-thumpbeneath my ear grounds me in this moment, more real than any dream could be.

It's been almost six weeks since Micah has entered my life. Each moment is etched into my memory like carvings in stone.

Six weeks.It feels like a long time, yet at the same time, it's not long enough.

The days have blurred together like watercolors, beautiful and impossible to separate.

But maybe that's because we've taken big steps in our lives. Steps people who've known each other longer than we have haven't even considered.

We got married and became the next Mr. and Mrs. Delarosa.

The weight of my wedding ring still feels new and wonderful on my finger.

That's a big deal regardless of whatever terms and conditions put us together.

I'm Micah's wife now, and he's my husband. The words still send shivers of pleasure down my spine.

Husband and wife. The labels feel like they were made for us, fitting as perfectly as our bodies do together.

Against my better judgment, or whatever sprinkle of logic and reasoning is left in my mind, I'm going to enjoy this. Regardless of the consequences, my body and heart have made their choice.

I can hardly remember what my life was like without Micah, and I don't want to. Those days, even the good parts, feel like a distant memory. Or like they happened to someone else, a stranger whose pain I can recall but no longer feel.

By the same token, my life with Anton feels like a fever dream. The memories are hazy around the edges, losing their power to hurt me.

That's a big deal for me. My heart swells with the realization of how far I've come.

Being with Anton felt like a lifetime in itself. Or like I'd slipped and fallen into an alternate reality where everything was wrong and no matter what I did, I couldn't make it right. Even when I left him, things didn't feel right.

Leaving him was the right thing to do but I still had to wade through the seas of despair and struggle for so long that my dreams and my identity slipped away like smoke through my fingers.

Now Anton feels like a bad dream and Micah is like the universe's way of making up for Anton. Each touch from Micah erases another shadow of my past.

I can't compare my disappointments in Mom and Johnny because they were always there, but Anton ruined me. The truth of it sits heavy in my chest but lighter than it used to be.

Micah runs a hand down my cheek and cups my face, his touch feather-light yet anchoring. "What are you thinking about, wife?" His voice is rough with emotion, the wordwifecarrying a weight that makes my heart stutter.

I look up at him and search his eyes in the dark, finding them bright with something that makes my breath catch. The first hints of dawn paint his features in shades of silver and shadow.

"I’m thinking that everything is different now." The words feel inadequate for the expanse of feelings swirling in my chest, but they're all I have.

“Everything is different, and it will always be.” His tone holds an air of refection I feel, too.

I straighten and pull the sheet over my breasts.

Micah stares at me, his eyes searching mine in the pre-dawn light. "What do you want to do when we go back to New York?"

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