Page 54 of Vows Made in Silence
The moment his body presses to mine, everything I promised myself crumbles. I’m supposed to be strong. To think clearly. To protect our son. But how do I fight the only place I’ve ever felt safe?
His lips find my shoulder, then my neck, and the fire he left inside me reignites, tenfold. My fingers reach back to tangle in his hair. I should push him away.
But instead—I pull him closer.
Her nails rake my scalp and I groan into her skin. Every part of me is on fire. The years haven’t dulled this craving.
They’ve sharpened it into a blade I can’t sheath. The look in her eyes—rage, lust, love—is a mirror of my own.
She lifts her leg, wraps it around my hip, opening herself to me without words. And in that moment, I don’t fuck her— because each thrust is a vow.
Mine.
Then. Now.
Always.
His mouth is everywhere—on my throat, my collarbone, my lips. My body moves with his, desperate, consumed. This isn’t gentle. It’s survival. His hands grip my thighs, grounding me.
I shatter against him, crying out a name I once vowed never to speak with love again—a name I’d buried beneath layers of hatred just to survive. Luca.
I told myself I hated him. That he was my enemy. That clinging to that rage was the only way I’d stay alive.
But who was I fooling?
I never stopped loving him.
And in this moment—writhing under his touch, his breath on my skin, his voice murmuring broken apologies—I know he feels it too.
With every thrust, every whispered curse, every desperate kiss.
And I let him. Because what we lost can’t be undone.
His arms are still around me.
The water's long gone cold, but neither of us moves. We stand there—foreheads pressed together, my cheek against the firm wall of his chest—as the silence stretches. His heartbeat thunders under my ear. Steady. Fierce.
I close my eyes.
It wasn’t just the sex. It never was.
I should pull away. We’re still standing on the edge of a war. But I don’t. I can’t. Because this moment—this rare, fragile moment of peace—it’s ours.
And I’ve been starving for it for ten long years.
“I missed this,” I whisper against his skin. “Not just you… but the part of me that only exists when I’m with you.”
Luca pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. His gaze is heavy with the weight of all we lost. His fingers brush my cheek, and there’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at me—like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he blinks.
“You never left me,” he says quietly. “Not for one fucking second.”
Her words gut me. Because I know it’s true.
I tried to erase her. Buried myself in blood and work and revenge. Built an empire bigger than the one I inherited, just to forget the girl who once smelled like violets and painted wildflowers in the margins of my black-and-white world.
But none of it worked.
She’s still the fire under my skin.
