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The Smile They Believe
Last Updated:
2025-12-23 16:38:03
Latest chapter
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Things That Were Always Mine
Gwen’s POV The jewelry wing sat at the far end of the mall, quieter than the rest, insulated by glass and velvet and the kind of hush money creates. Sound softened there. Footsteps turned polite. Even breathing felt measured. Julian slowed instinctively as we crossed the threshold. I felt it, the way men like him always became more careful around fragile things. Wealth and women. Objects that could shatter if mishandled. Dr. Weston walked a half-step behind us, her gaze alert again, curiosity sharpened by my request. Jewelry wasn’t necessary. It was not practical. Which meant, in her mind, it carried risk. That made my mouth curve faintly. “I just want to look,” I said lightly, as if anticipating resistance. “Nothing big.” Julian smiled, indulgent. “Of course. Take your time.” We entered the first boutique, all mirrored walls and white-gloved attendants. Diamonds glittered beneath lights calibrated
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Smile They Believe
Gwen's POV The car door closed with a soft, expensive thud.Julian settled into the driver’s side beside the hired security detail, Dr. Weston took the seat across from me, her posture relaxed and satisfied. The spa had done its job, for them. I leaned back, letting my head rest against the cool leather, my lashes lowered, and my body arranged in the posture of pleasant exhaustion. A woman who had been cared for.Julian glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “You did really well today.” I turned my head slightly, offering him a tired smile. “It was… nice. I forgot what that felt like.” That, at least, was true.Dr. Weston nodded approvingly. “Positive sensory reinforcement is important after prolonged trauma. You tolerated stimulation well.” As if calm were something inflicted.I ignored her as I watched storefronts blur together, familiar brands I used to own shares in, streets I once navigated without permission. I let the nostalgia show, just enough to look wistful, not resen
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
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