LOVE AGAIN; AFTER HER BETRAYAL

“Urghhh”, Melinda groaned, letting a slight gruffy moan escape through her lips as she lazily stretched out her arms, the dull rays of the morning sun generously hitting her light skin through the pangs of the only large window in the poorly lit master bedroom. The view from where she sat typically highlighted the City that never sleeps, its iconic skyscrapers and a kaleidoscope of sounds, sights and flowers made butterflies flutter in her stomach – An enthusiastic adrenaline rush from the excitement of her 5th wedding anniversary was worth it wasn't it?.She yawned as she made for the door to find Ethan, he had been so busy with work he barely had time for her in the past month, although the daily breakfast in bed was quite romantic, it didn't serve as generous enough compensation for his presence.“Ethan!”She called out, hoping he was home at least.“I woke up early enough this time, where are you?”, Subsequent thuds from her footsteps gave way to the creaking sound emanating from

The atmosphere between Ethan's office and Melinda's accusation was charged. Her eyes, raw and accusatory, shot Sage. Sage flinched, recoiling from the fire in her sister's eyes. The tears running down her face were no longer quite so much remorse as terror – terror of being discovered, terror of what would come next. Ethan too stiffened, surprised by Melinda's sudden change of direction, her heart-stoppingly clear realization."Lin, no! Everything's all wrong!" Sage stuttered, her voice reedy and thin, a futile attempt at denial. She wrung her hands, a picture of spurious distress.But Melinda was not convinced. The rage, cold and detached, was hardening into an impenetrable conviction. Her vapid morning vignettes – the unexplained nakedness, Sage's convenient "early meeting" text, and now these monstrous, posed photographs – it all coalesced into a coherent, frightening mosaic. A conspiracy. A calculated destruction."Out," Melinda spat, her own voice low and threatening, directed at

The polished marble floors of Henderson & Associates reflected the afternoon sun, an obvious contrast to the storm brewing within Melinda. Her hand firmly clutched her purse, knuckles white, as the elevator ascended, each floor a ticking moment closer to salvation or further heartache, as the case was going to be. Brenda, the receptionist, a commiserating smile on her face, welcomed Melinda as she stumbled out."Mrs. Melinda Sterling, Mr. Henderson is waiting for you," Brenda said softly, noticing the paleness of Melinda's face. "Go in."Melinda nodded, a silent thank you, and pushed open the solid oak door to Mr. Henderson's office. The room, which smelled of old books and leather, usually had a soothing effect, but today it was a pressure cooker. Mr. Henderson, a man in his late-fifties with kind eyes and a distinguished grey temple, rose from behind his huge mahogany desk."Melinda, sit down, please," he said, gesturing to the plush armchair opposite him. His voice was a warm comfo

"I can't wait to have a daughter that'll look just like you," Ethan murmured, his warm morning breath ghosting over Melinda's cheek, "so I can stare into her pretty little brown eyes when you decide to be stingy with yours."Melinda felt a blush creep up her neck. She loved the deep rumble of his chest against her back, the gentle vibration that coursed through her, holding her so tightly cuddled up in the coziest embrace. It was moments like these, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of their bed, that felt like pure, unadulterated happiness."Then, I'd teach her to shut her eyes when you're desperate for it," she chuckled, her voice still thick with sleep and affection. With a playful grunt, she unwrapped herself from the duvet, the cool morning air hitting her skin before she slipped into her plush bathrobe.She made for the bathroom, reaching for the door, but Ethan was right behind her. He didn't say a word, just stood there, his gaze like a lion's, fierce and possessive, devouring her

Years ago, he would not have believed that he would be this man, the same one everyone had envied for finding his “perfect match”, now caressing the nude body of his wife's sister.And what sin would he be accused of committing, if someone were to stand there and point accusing fingers at him? Adultery? Fornication? No. Love. His sin was love, a truth that had taken years of self-loathing to unveil. Also not loving Melinda as he should have. He was her husband, and he should have loved her.He thought he did when they first met as undergraduate students in college. Melinda was the type of girl he liked—the one that was a whole load of surprises. One moment she was quiet as a mouse, seemingly terrified by even the mention of conflict, withdrawing into herself with a fragility that stirred his protective instincts. Another moment, she was downing brandy without a flinch, her eyes sparkling with a daring he found utterly captivating. Yes, he liked her. She was beautiful, smart, and ch