MasukLorraine's POV "I am not leaving him! Why do I have to go?" I snap my wrist free from her grip, my voice echoing in the hospital hallway. I glare at Georgia, my hands shaking as I clutch my purse. "He’s disoriented, Georgia. He looked at me like I was a total stranger! I need to be in there when the doctor explains why my fiancé’s brain has apparently rotted."Georgia doesn't flinch. She scoffs sharply, cutting through my hysteria. Slowly, she steps toward me, her eyes raking over my appearance with disgust."Perhaps the smell coming off you is what put him off in the first place. Damian Sterling would never lower himself to be with someone who hasn't touched soap since Sunday."My hand flies to my hair, unwashed and greasy. I haven't showered since I watched his car disappear from the church that morning."You're saying I smell?""Stink is the right word. Go take a shower. Be your usual polished self, then come back." Georgia's voice softens slightly. "You want him to remember why h
Damian's POV "What the fuck are you going on about?" Georgia’s voice shrills, her face draining of color as she stares at me. "Damian, stop this. It’s not funny." "I’m in a hospital bed, my body feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder, and you’re standing there with a stranger claiming I’m engaged. Where is my Samantha? Why isn't she here?" Georgia looks at me with profound horror. She steps closer, her hands trembling. "Lorraine, please go get the doctor. Tell him Damian has woken up, and he is disoriented." Lorraine looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears, before she turns and flees the room. "Damian, Lorraine has been your fiancée for five years. You were supposed to marry her three days ago, but you got into a horrible accident with Seth. He didn't make it." My heart stops. Seth... is dead? The image of his face, even his bugging presence, flashes through my mind, followed by a crushing wave of grief that makes the physical pain seem like a tickle. But I let o
"Oh God."It's a perfect stretch that makes my eyes roll back. My lips part on a silent gasp as I try to catch my breath around the overwhelming sensation of fullness.Timothy leans down, his forehead resting against mine. He’s smiling, eyes crinkled at the corners, and I reach up to trace his jaw with my fingers because I can."You're so beautiful," he says quietly."Don't make me cry right now."He laughs and turns his lips to my palm. "I'm not moving yet. I want to stay here for a minute. Is that okay?""More than okay."My hands roam. His shoulders, his back, the plane of his stomach. He is looking at me and I am looking at him and the weight of five years sits here with us, every Tuesday, every airport goodbye, every time he tucked hair behind my ear and I didn't let myself think about what it meant."I didn't know it would feel like this," he murmurs."Like what?" I'm utterly lost in his eyes."Like coming home..." he makes the first thrust.A sharp, delicious shock rips through
Samantha's POV"Timothy.""I know," he breathes against my lips.We kiss again, and this one is unhurried in a way that makes my knees useless. I can still taste the red wine on his lips as I drink him in. "I've been wanting to do this," he murmurs between kisses, "for an embarrassingly long time.""How long?""Don't ask me that right now."I laugh against his mouth, and he kisses the laugh. His hands come up to cradle my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks as if I’m something precious, something fragile he’s afraid to break.His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, down the column of my throat, leaving a path of fire. “My Sam,” he murmurs into the hollow of my collarbone. “Mine.”“Yours,” I whisper as I break the kiss for a moment, my fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. I tap a finger over his heart, feeling the wild rhythm beneath my touch.He captures my hand, brings my knuckles to his lips, and kisses each one. The tenderness is a physical ache in my chest.
Samantha's POVWhat I was expecting was a sour stench from the vomit I didn't get a chance to clean up yesterday. Instead, I'm met with a metallic and damp smell.Our apartment is now a lake!"What... what is this?" I whisper, my voice cracking.Water shimmers over the hardwood, reflecting the silhouette of my life. My furniture's been slaughtered. The first single-seater sofa is flipped onto the water, the cushion of the second is sliced open. My bookshelf has been turned over too, my favorite novels now floating like drowned birds."Mommy? Why is the house a swimming pool?" Charlie asks from Timothy’s arms."It’s just... a bad pipe, baby," I lie, though my heart is screaming a different name. Lorraine. Or Georgia. This has their fingerprints all over it. I know damn well I didn't leave no tap on. Even if I did, my drains aren't blocked.But for what exactly? Why tear apart my apartment? Even my mounted TV is on the floor, in the water!My heels splash as we move to the bedroom. It's
Samantha's POVThe doctor's words are still ringing in my ears when I sit down beside Charlie's bed. Acute Viral Gastroenteritis with Dehydration. A stomach virus. Something he ate that his little body couldn't fight."He’s fine, Ms. Gregory," the kind nurse tells me, holding out a bottle of water. "His electrolytes are back in range. He just needs to sleep it off."But I don't believe her. Not until I see my baby's curious blue eyes. I take my phone and place a call to Nadia. I need a voice, any voice, that won't lie to me right now."Hey, what's good. I'm literally running late for work, and I'm meeting with a new client this morning." I sigh."Sam? What's wrong?""Charlie." My voice breaks. "He's in the hospital. He collapsed this morning. He was vomiting and then he... he just fell, Nadia. He was on the floor, in a pool of vomit. I almost lost my boy today... I thought he was—""Breathe, Sam. Breathe. Where are you? What hospital? I'll take the next flight to Manhattan.""No, don







