chapter 10

After our bath, we both slipped into fresh white robes. Moments later, Teddy scooped me up in his arms, carrying me toward the bedroom as we kissed and laughed between breaths. He set me down gently beside the bed, and we sat together on the edge, our fingers tracing each other’s faces in soft, lingering touches.

He stood, walked to the small table where a bottle of wine and a single glass waited. He poured himself a measure, took a slow sip, then poured again. When he returned to me, I rose to meet him. My hands found his waist; I pulled him close and kissed him deeply, tasting the rich sweetness of the wine on his tongue.

“God, I love everything about you, Teddy,” I whispered against his lips.

He smiled, eyes warm and dark. “I’m glad. Here—open.”

He tilted the glass to my mouth. My lips parted, and the wine slid over my tongue—sweet, just like him.

Before I could swallow, his mouth claimed mine again. The kiss was hungry, urgent. Heat pooled low in my belly; I was already wet. He knew exactly how to unravel me. The kiss deepened until I felt like I was melting into him.

He finally pulled back, finished the rest of the wine in one smooth swallow, and set the glass aside. Then he turned to face me fully. With slow, deliberate movements, he loosened the tie of his robe. The fabric slipped away, pooling at his feet. He stood naked before me, eyes locked on mine.

His right hand began a lazy path down his own body—from the column of his throat, over the hard planes of his chest, pausing to brush his nipples, then lower across the ridges of his six-pack, down to the sharp cut of his hips. Finally, his fingers wrapped around the thick length of his cock.

“Ahh… Payton,” he groaned, voice rough.

I watched, stunned, lips parted. What is this man doing to me?

“Ahh, Payton,” he said again, biting his lower lip as his hand moved slowly.

A rush of heat surged through me. My fingers found the knot of my own robe and tugged it open. The fabric fell away, leaving me bare. I crossed the small distance between us and pressed my lips to his neck, kissing and sucking gently—careful not to leave marks.

“Oh yes,” he breathed. His hands gripped my ass, squeezing hard before he lifted me effortlessly. A few steps, then he tossed me onto the bed with just enough force to make me gasp. He followed immediately, hooking my legs over his shoulders.

He caught one of my feet, brought it to his mouth, and dragged his tongue slowly over my big toe.

I screamed—sharp, surprised pleasure ripping through me. I’d never felt anything like it. With Teddy, every touch felt like the first time, like he was rewriting what pleasure could be.

He pulled me closer, my legs still draped over his shoulders, and slid inside me in one deep thrust. Hard. Perfect. Then he lowered my legs, braced himself above me, and fucked me harder, each stroke driving the air from my lungs.

“Do you like it?” he whispered against my mouth.

“Yes—yes, Teddy—fuck me, please—ahhh!”

He flipped me onto my stomach, lifted my hips, and entered me again from behind—deeper, rougher.

“Fuck, Teddy—yes, yes—”

Later, he pulled me on top of him. I rode him hard, grinding down, chasing more.

“Harder, Payton—yes, fuck—”

When my thighs began to tremble with exhaustion, he rolled us over, pinning me beneath him. His face buried in my neck as he thrust even harder, tongue tracing the shell of my ear, licking every sensitive spot.

“Teddy, I—”

The orgasm crashed over me, fierce and blinding.

“Ahhh—” he groaned, pulling out just in time to come hot and thick across my stomach.

We lay there panting, staring into each other’s eyes for a long, quiet moment.

Then he kissed me softly—slow, tender—and settled his head on my chest. My fingers slid into his hair, stroking gently as his breathing evened out.

“I love you,” he whispered.

And then he drifted to sleep in my arms.

Hearing those words left me completely confused. Who is Teddy to me, really? Do I actually love him, or is he just a fleeting attraction—maybe even a distraction? My mind was a mess.

I could have ended things with Richard so easily after seeing those photos. But do I truly want to be separated from him? I love him like crazy. I can’t let him go. He wasn’t always like this. The change started after that terrible day… the day we lost our child. And honestly, it was all my fault for not being more careful.

I still remember it vividly. I woke up to smoke already filling the house. Richard had stepped out to buy groceries. I had fallen asleep on the couch after cleaning, with baby Mia sleeping peacefully beside me. But little did I know she wasn’t breathing.

Panicking, I searched for my phone while coughing, scooped her into my arms, and dialed 911. Then the kitchen exploded. Fire was everywhere. I was in shock. I had cooked earlier that day and was certain I’d turned everything off before resting—I was sure of it.

I rushed out of the burning house and immediately called Richard. Only after hanging up did I realize Mia wasn’t breathing. I screamed for help.

Suddenly, police and firefighters arrived. They brought oxygen, guided me to the emergency vehicle. Seeing my baby struggling for her life, the crushing thought that I had killed my own child overwhelmed me. Everything went black. I fainted.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the hospital. Richard was right beside me, holding my hand the moment he saw me stir.

“Baby, are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Where is Mia?” I demanded, eyes wide, already trying to sit up.

“Payton, please stay still,” he said, gently pressing me back down. “I’ll call the doctor now that you’re awake. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back.” He left the room.

Tears welled up instantly. Deep down, I knew something was horribly wrong. God, please, no, I prayed silently as tears streamed down my face.

Soon the doctor returned with Richard. My husband stood by my side as the doctor delivered the news we both dreaded: our little girl didn’t make it.

I nearly collapsed again. I remember screaming, clutching Richard’s shirt while he held me tightly.

“No… no, it can’t be… no!”

He just kept comforting me. “Don’t worry, Payton,” he whispered, cupping my face in both hands. “Everything is going to be fine as long as you’re safe. We can have more babies. We can try again.”

“I killed her, Richard,” I sobbed. “I should have checked everything properly before I fell asleep. I should have been more careful. It’s all my fault.”

“Stop it, Payton. It was never your fault,” he insisted. He did everything he could to keep me from spiraling into something worse. He stayed by my side through every wave of grief. He was there… truly there.

So what happened to us? Why the sudden change in him? Why did he cheat? Should I have confronted him about that woman right away?

Now it’s all too much. I blame myself for everything. And to make matters worse—I’m with someone else now.

Someone who, I think, has genuinely fallen in love with me.

What am I going to do?