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The Curse Unveiled
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2025-12-04 23:12:07
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A Kiss For Every Bruise The Quiet Restoration
Gwen’s POVThe spa was designed to feel like forgetting. Soft marble floors, pale wood accents, water murmuring somewhere unseen. Everything smelled faintly of eucalyptus and something floral I couldn’t quite name. Calm had been engineered here, curated down to the lighting and the music that breathed instead of played. Julian walked beside me, hands in his pockets, trying not to look like a guard. Dr. Weston followed a step behind, clipboard tucked against her chest, her smile professional and warm, concern masquerading as care. Camilla hadn’t come. That, more than anything, told me this outing wasn’t for me. It was a test. “You’ve been doing very well,” Dr. Weston said as we checked in. “Your family is pleased.” I nodded, offering the soft smile they’d come to associate with improvement. Calm Gwen. Agreeable Gwen. The version of me that didn’t scratch faces or raise her voice or speak of erased years and men who smiled while destroying lives. Inside, my spine was steel. Julian
A Kiss For Every Bruise Family Is Compromised
Gwen’s POV The west wing had mirrors everywhere. That was the first thing I noticed after a few days of confinement. They were the kind of mirrors meant to reassure, not reflect. Soft lighting. Warm frames. Nothing sharp. Nothing honest. They wanted me to recognize myself again. Or maybe they wanted me to doubt that I ever had. I stood before one of them one morning, brushing my hair slowly, watching my own eyes. The girl looking back at me was not broken. She was not hysterical. She was thinner. Quieter. Sharper around the edges. Trauma had not erased me, it had rearranged me. That mattered. Sebastian visited just after breakfast. He brought fruit I did not ask for and the concern he wore like armor. “You’re doing better,” he said, sitting across from me. Not a question. A conclusion. “I’m calmer,” I replied. “That’s not the same thing.” He smiled faintly. “Doctor Weston thinks calm is a good sign.” There it was again. Doctor Weston. Always cited. Always deferred to. As if her
A Kiss For Every Bruise Teaching the Body to Know
Adrian’s POV Miguel left the room quietly. He always did that when he had said something that landed too close to bone. As if noise afterward would bruise it further. The door closed with a soft click, and the house returned to its familiar hush. Somewhere down the hall, Kayla laughed at something the housekeeper said, the sound light and unguarded, still unfamiliar enough that it startled me every time I heard it. I remained where I was, seated at the edge of the couch, my hands resting on my knees. Bare hands. That alone told me how much had shifted and how much had not. I replayed the conversation with Miguel whether I wanted to or not. Not the words themselves, but the moments between them. The pauses where I had swallowed. The places where my chest had tightened. The instinctive recoil I had not voiced but had not fully hidden either. Miguel had not pushed. He never did. He had simply said, “Your body doesn’t know yet what your mind has decided.” That sentence stayed with me
A Kiss For Every Bruise Things Men Don’t Admit
Adrian’s POV The house was quiet in a way that didn’t feel brittle anymore. Kayla had fallen asleep on the couch after coloring herself into exhaustion, her small body curled around a pillow like she expected it to disappear if she let go. I had carried her to bed myself, slow and careful, counting each breath the way Miguel had taught me. When I came back downstairs, the lights were dimmed, the world reduced to soft shadows and the muted city glow beyond the windows. Miguel was in the armchair opposite mine, legs crossed, a glass of water balanced precisely on the coaster. I still wore transparent gloves. I always did, even when indoors. Even with my family and close buddies. Those who did not know me thought it was eccentricity, but those close to me knew better. I have always struggled with a serious case of germaphobia. “She’s getting better,” I said quietly, staring at the darkened hallway that led to Kayla’s room. Miguel nodded. “She is. And so are you.” That should have
A Kiss For Every Bruise When Fatherhood Civilize Monsters
Alejandro Miguel did not speak right away. He rarely did when the silence mattered. We were seated on the terrace just beyond the playroom, the late afternoon light slanting low across the stone. Kayla’s laughter drifted faintly through the open doors, soft, unguarded, the sound of a child who had forgotten to be afraid for at least a moment. Miguel sat with his legs crossed, gloves on as always, fingers loosely folded over his knee. He watched the horizon, not me.I broke first. “I thought loving her would be enough,” I said quietly. “I really did.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly, an invitation, not a push.“I told myself that if Gwen knew she was safe now, if she knew Mason couldn’t touch her again, that it would… overwrite the rest.” I let out a breath that felt heavier than it should have. “That it would be simple.”Miguel exhaled through his nose. Not amusement. Recognition. “Nothing that follows prolonged trauma is simple,” he said. “Especially not love.”I nodded once. My jaw
A Kiss For Every Bruise Justice Before Healing Is Just Another Violation
Adrian’s POVKayla fell asleep with her fist wrapped around my thumb. She had done that more often lately, reaching for me without looking, as if she trusted I would still be there when her eyes closed. Miguel called it object permanence rebuilding. I called it the most terrifying privilege of my life.I sat beside her bed long after her breathing evened out, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the faint crease between her brows that only appeared when she dreamed. Some nights she still whimpered. Some nights she slept like nothing had ever touched her. Tonight, she slept deep.I eased my hand free carefully, like disarming a bomb, and stepped into the hallway. Miguel was waiting near the window, arms folded, gaze fixed on the dark stretch of ocean beyond the estate. He didn’t turn when I approached. “She held your hand,” he said. “Yeah.” I smiled. “That’s new.” “So is a lot of this.”He finally looked at me then. Really looked. Not the Salvador heir. Not the strategist. Ju
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