Page 26 of Final Vendetta

My eyes fluttered open to rays of sun streaming in through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the space. I took a moment to adjust to my surroundings, my peaceful and quaint new home a stark contrast to the sterile hospital room I’d called home for the past two weeks.

I stretched in the luxurious bed before shifting onto my side, expecting to see Gideon next to me. Instead, his side of the bed was empty.

It reminded me of the morning a few weeks ago when I woke up in his house after what I thought was a breakthrough. I thought I’d finally reached him, cut through the iron walls he’d built up after everything he’d endured.

I thought we could be whole again.

Thought we could beusagain.

Now we were.

So why did it feel...wrong?

I quickly pushed away the thought and slid out of bed, wincing slightly as I found my footing. Then I padded on light feet down the hallway, the smell of coffee like a beacon.

As I entered the kitchen, I couldn’t help but smile at the sight that greeted me. Gideon stood at the stove, his broad shouldersrelaxed as he flipped bacon in the skillet. His hair was disheveled and a pair of gray sweatpants hung from his hips, revealing the intricate pattern of scars that dotted his toned torso.

Scars he once tried to hide.

Now he wore them like a badge.

Just like I wore mine.

As if sensing my gaze on him, he glanced over his shoulder and met my eyes with a warm smile that lit up his entire face.

“Morning,” he murmured as he approached me, brushing his lips against mine in a gentle kiss. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. It was so quiet and peaceful.”

“Are you hungry? I can whip up a frittata if you’d like. Or something else.”

“A frittata?”

He nodded, a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Like you taught me all those years ago.”

“It’s one of my favorite memories,” I admitted. “Or perhaps I should say what happenedafterI showed you how to make a frittata is one of my favorite memories.” I smirked.

“Is that right?” He waggled his brows, his pupils flaming with lust.

“Most definitely.”

One of the first mornings we spent together, I’d woken up to surprise him with breakfast. At the time, he was more of a night owl, since it was the only time he had to work on his gaming platform with Liam.

But when he walked into the kitchen and saw me cooking, he asked me to teach him sohecould makemebreakfast.

Except neither one of us was able to keep our hands off each other, to the point that he hauled me onto the kitchen island and made me see stars.

The frittata definitely came out overcooked.

But true to his word, the next time he stayed over, I woke up to the delicious smell of bacon and eggs. And every morning we spent together after that, he continued to make me breakfast… Until I woke up one morning to that devastating phone call.

“How long did the doctor say we had to wait?” he groaned, his frustration evident.

“A few more weeks. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.” I gave him a coy look as I ran my fingers down his stomach.

But before I could slip my hand underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, he scooped it up in his, brushing a soft kiss along my knuckles.

“You have no idea how much I’d love to do other things, but I want you to heal first. I don’t want to do anything that could cause you even more pain.”

---