Page 23 of Reclaiming Venom

Three Months Later

My eyes snapped open, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. My heart raced as memories flooded my mind in a torrent -- vivid, undeniable images that brought sudden clarity to the fog that had clouded my thoughts for months.

The scent of Ridley’s shampoo filled my nostrils as I sat up abruptly, my breath catching in my throat. She lay beside me, still sleeping peacefully, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow. The sight of her anchored me as the full weight of my regained past settled over me like a heavy blanket.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair.

Ridley stirred slightly at the sound of my voice but didn’t wake. I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, marveling at how young she still looked compared to my weathered sixty-something-year-old ass.

My mind reeled as I sorted through the recovered memories. Flashes of our kids -- Dawson, Mariah, Farrah -- growing up. The day Ridley got her property cut. Stepping down as VP. Taylor running after me, begging to be picked up. And finally, the day I got shot and nearly died.

Pain pierced my brain as everything hit me like a freight train.

How could I have forgotten all this? A mix of relief and regret washing over me. Finally, I could recall all those missing years.

I clenched my fists, feeling the calluses earned from years of working on bikes and throwing punches when needed. The tough, no-nonsense biker was still there inside me. But so was the devoted husband and father I’d become.

Ridley mumbled something in her sleep, drawing my gaze back to her. Even after all these years, the sight of her still made my heart skip a beat. I reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

My fingers trembled as they grazed her cheek, a mix of awe and disbelief coursing through me. The softness of her skin beneath my fingertips was achingly familiar yet somehow felt brand new. In addition to our past, I still vividly recalled our time together the past few months, as we’d fallen in love all over again. Each delicate curve and line on her face told a story -- our story -- that I was rediscovering with every touch.

“Ridley,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotion.

Her eyelids fluttered, and I held my breath as those striking blue eyes I’d fallen for decades ago slowly opened. Confusion clouded her gaze for a moment as she focused on me, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Venom?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the rush of memories and feelings. Instead, I cupped her face gently, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. Her eyes widened, a dawning realization replacing the confusion as she searched my face.

“You…” she breathed, her hand coming up to cover mine. “You remember?”

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “Everything, darlin’. Every damn thing.”

The air between us crackled with tension, years of shared history flooding back in an instant. Ridley’s eyes welled with tears, her grip on my hand tightening as if she was afraid I might slip away again.

A heavy silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. The soft morning light cast a warm glow across Ridley’s face, highlighting the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. I could feel my heart pounding, each beat a reminder of the love I’d rediscovered.

“Ridley,” I whispered, her name falling from my lips like a prayer. My voice was rough, laden with the weight of restored memories and lost time. “My Ridley.”

The dam broke. Ridley’s eyes overflowed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she flung herself into my arms. Her body collided with mine, soft curves meeting my chest as she clung to me with desperate intensity.

“Oh God, Venom,” she sobbed, her voice muffled against my chest. “You’re really back. You’re here.”

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer. The familiar feel of her in my arms evoked a flood of memories. Bike rides at sunset, lazy Sunday mornings, the birth of our children -- it all came rushing back.

“I’m here, darlin’,” I murmured into her hair, my own eyes stinging. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Ridley’s fingers dug into my back, her body shaking with each sob. I could feel her tears soaking through my shirt, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was holding her, proving to both of us that this moment was real.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she choked out, her words punctuated by hiccupping breaths. “Even when you came back, you weren’t really… you.”

The pain in her voice cut through me like a knife. I tightened my grip, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so damn sorry. But I’m here now. All of me.”

My grip on Ridley remained firm yet tender, as if she might dissolve into mist if I dared to loosen my hold. Her petite frame fit perfectly against my larger one, a familiar puzzle piece slotting into place. The warmth of her body seeped into mine, a soothing balm that eased the ache of lost time.

“Ridley,” I breathed, my voice rough with emotion. “My fierce, beautiful girl.”

She shuddered against me, her fingers tracing the lines of my back through my shirt. The simple touch ignited sparks beneath my skin, reminding me of all we’d shared and all we’d missed.

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