LOGINROXETTEI woke slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of our bedroom. For a moment, I just lay there, savoring the warmth of Chandler’s body curled around mine. His arm was draped over my waist, his breath steady and warm against the back of my neck. It was one of those rare mornings when Luna had slept through the night, and the quiet felt luxurious. I turned carefully in his arms, not wanting to wake him yet, and studied his face in the early light. Even in sleep, he looked peaceful, the lines of worry that had once been so constant smoothed away. We had fought so hard for this. For the quiet. For the love. For the family that had once seemed impossible.This was the life I had dreamed of. Not the dramatic kind from movies or books, but the simple, steady one. Waking up next to the man I loved, knowing
CHANDLERThe last of the guests had finally left, the garden lights dimming as the evening settled into a quiet hush around the estate. Luna had been wound up from all the attention and cake-smashing, but after a warm bath and her favorite lullaby, she’d finally drifted off in her crib. I stood in the doorway of the nursery for a moment, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, her little fist curled near her cheek. My daughter. Our daughter. A year old today. It still hit me sometimes, how much had changed in such a short time.I closed the door softly and made my way down the hall to our bedroom. Roxette was already there, standing by the window in the soft glow of the bedside lamps. She’d changed into one of my old T-shirts that hung loose over her curves, the fabric brushing the tops of her thighs. Her hair was down, sl
CHANDLERA year had flown by in the blink of an eye. Luna was one year old today, our little moon, the tiny miracle who had turned our world upside down in the best possible way. I stood in the doorway of the nursery that morning, watching her sleep in her crib for a few quiet moments before the chaos of the day began. Her dark curls were tousled against the pillow, one little fist curled near her cheek, and her chest rose and fell with those soft, even breaths that never failed to calm something deep inside me. At eleven months, she had been walking steadily for weeks now, babbling nonstop, and testing every boundary with that determined little frown she got from me. But today she was still my baby, and I wanted to hold onto that for just a little longer.Roxette stirred in our bed behind me, her voice soft and sleepy. “Is she
ROXETTEA few weeks had passed since that tender, reconnecting night after we put Luna to bed, and life had settled into a beautiful rhythm I never wanted to take for granted. Luna was eleven months old now, a curious, giggling little explorer who was pulling herself up on furniture and babbling nonstop. Her first real words were starting to form—“mama,” “dada,” and something that sounded suspiciously like “nana” when she saw my mom, and every new milestone felt like a tiny celebration. She had Chandler’s dark eyes and my smile, and watching her toddle around the estate with her little arms outstretched made my heart feel so full it could burst.Family had become the heartbeat of our days. The forgiveness we’d fought so hard for had turned into something real and steady, not perfe
ROXETTEA few months had slipped by in a blur of first steps, babbling words, and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that only new parents truly understand. Luna was eleven months old now, a curious, giggling little whirlwind with Chandler’s dark eyes and my smile.She was walking—well, more like toddling and falling into our arms with triumphant squeals, and testing every boundary she could find. Our days revolved around her: playtime in the now well-loved nursery, messy meals, and those precious quiet moments when she’d fall asleep on my chest, her tiny fingers curled into my shirt.But tonight felt different. Special, even.We’d finally gotten Luna down for the night after her usual be
ROXETTEThe days after that first family visit settled into a gentle rhythm that felt both new and deeply familiar. Luna was still so tiny, her little body fitting perfectly in the crook of my arm as she slept or nursed. I found myself spending hours in the nursery, rocking her while the soft pastel walls and the mobile above her crib created a peaceful little world just for us. Chandler was my constant anchor, always there with a warm hand on my back during late-night feedings or a quiet “You’re doing amazing” when exhaustion hit.He handled the diaper changes like a pro and even took over burping duty so I could rest for a few extra minutes. Our little family felt complete in a way I hadn’t dared to hope for after everything we’d been through.
ROXETTE The door slammed harder than I meant it to. I didn’t turn back. Not like anyone inside cared. Dave’s voice still rang in my ears, tangled with my mother’s annoyed sighs. “Don’t come back if you’re going to act like that!” she’d shouted, the same line she always used. The evening air w
ROXETTE After class, I went home to the rundown apartment my mom and I live in. I could already smell the stench of cigarettes and alcohol before I even stepped fully inside. The smell alone was enough to make my shoulders tense. Home sweet home. Then I saw Dave, still in his late twenties.
ROXETTE “Say it,” he orders, gripping my chin so I meet his gaze. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I… I belong to you,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he hits that spot again and again. “I'm yours!” "That's right," he praises darkly. "My good little virgin is finally getting what sh
ROXETTEChandler’s eyes darken at my words, a primal hunger flashing across his face.“Fuck,” he growls softly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?”He stands abruptly and lifts me easily into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries me toward the stairs.“D







