chapter 25: The space between

Bronte’s

Morning came, I woke up in Rufus’s bed with sunlight cutting across the sheets and the heavy ache of last night still in my body.

He was already awake, sitting against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. When he noticed me stirring, he set it down and pulled me closer.

“You’re sore,” he said, not as a question.

I nodded against his chest. “A little.”

His hand moved slowly down my back. “Good. I want you to feel me every time you move today.”

There was no softness in the way he said it just quiet ownership. I should have pulled away. Instead I stayed pressed against him, breathing in the scent of his skin.

We didn’t talk about Mom at first. Or Jake. Or the photos. We just lay there while the house stayed unnaturally still.

No footsteps downstairs. No coffee machine. No soft voice calling my name. The silence felt like a warning.

Eventually Rufus got up and went to shower. I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the look on Mom’s face when she left.

The way her voice had cracked when she said she needed space.

Guilt sat heavy in my chest, mixed with the residual heat from everything Rufus had done to me the night before.

When he came back into the room, towel low on his hips, he found me sitting up with the sheet pulled around me.

“She’s going to come back with more questions,” I said.

“I know.”

“And Jake isn’t going to stop.”

“I know that too.”

Rufus walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and tilted my chin up. “Then stop waiting for them to decide what happens next. Start deciding for yourself.”

I searched his face. “What does that mean?”

“It means you either claim this… or you let them take it from you.” His thumb brushed my lower lip.

“There’s no middle ground left, Bronte.”

The words settled deep. I hated how true they felt.

Later that afternoon, while Rufus was on a work call downstairs, my phone buzzed.

It was Chloe. Your mom called me. She’s staying at a hotel. She asked if I knew anything. I didn’t tell her, but she’s scared, Bronte really scared. Call me when you can.

I stared at the message until the screen went dark.

A second later another one came in.

Jake, ughh he’s so annoying. I know she left. I know you’re alone with him. If you need me to come get you, just say the word. I’m not far.

I deleted both messages and put the phone face-down on the nightstand.

Rufus finished his call and came back upstairs. He took one look at my face and knew something had shifted.

“Who texted you?”

“Chloe. And Jake.”

He didn’t get angry. He just walked over, pulled the sheet away from my body, and pushed me gently onto my back.

His mouth found my neck, then my collarbone, then lower. He took his time licking, sucking, biting just hard enough to leave faint marks.

By the time he settled between my legs and pushed inside me again, I was already trembling.

This time he fucked me slowly. Deep. Almost careful. His eyes never left mine.

“You’re still here,” he murmured against my mouth. “That’s all that matters right now.”

I came with my arms wrapped tightly around him, face buried in his neck, trying not to think about anything outside this room.

Afterward he held me for a long time, one hand stroking my hair.

Outside, the day kept moving. Mom was still gone. Jake was still digging. Chloe was still worried.

And I was still choosing the man who was slowly rewriting every part of me.

I just didn’t know how much longer I could keep choosing him before the whole thing collapsed.