Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
VIOLET
His eyes lock with mine, and something inside me shatters, and this time I don’t shy away like I’ve done many times before when someone looks at me too closely.
Something is different. Something feels different.
His gaze is mesmerized with me. It lingers on me like I’m the only one for him.
The only person in his world. My chest tightens and my stomach flips at this feeling I’ve never felt before.
My mind is spinning but yet it feels calm because I’m with someone who makes me feel safe.
Our connection is so strong I don’t pull away because part of me knows that this feeling is real.
That my feelings for him have always been here, hiding underneath the surface waiting to be free.
The pull between us is magnetic, making it impossible to stop myself. I wrap my legs around him, pulling us closer. The tip of his cock hits my center, and my breath catches in uneven gasps. The heat between us burns hotter with every inch he slowly pushes in.
Every thrust sends shivers down my spine and hits my core in ways I’ve never experienced.
He hovers over me, leaning into me, and letting the closeness take over.
He trails soft kisses on my neck like he’s memorizing the curve, the feel of my skin.
My breath rises and falls faster with my heart hammering against my chest. I tilt my head slightly, giving him more access.
My fingers trail up his back, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him toward my lips.
Our tongues collide together, hot and heavy.
We’re moving together like we’ve both been waiting for this moment far too long.
His breath becomes heavier, and his thrusts become deeper. The sound of rain hums through the kitchen as we lose ourselves in each other. Our storm becomes quieter, and the rest of the world disappears.
We’re both lying on top of the metal table with our arms and legs spread out as we try to catch our breaths. Beads of sweat drip down my head, making a cold chill run through my hot body.
Ezra makes me feel like I’ve never had sex before.
Or I should say never made love before. Was that making love?
Usually in the movies, the setting is in the bedroom, with candles lit and slow music playing.
But now that we’re lying here in a kitchen, my mind swirls with the thought that making love isn’t about the setting.
It’s about how it makes you feel. It’s about how it feels with the right person.
Right now, I feel loved and safe. After all the uncertainties in the prior months, something just feels so right.
My life feels like it’s falling into place again.
A place I never thought I would be in. But this place, this feeling, makes all the years missing out on him all worth it.
It’s like all those years spent with Zayn flew out the window and I’m back in my senior year of high school falling for Ezra.
How can all these years with one man disappear like that?
Sometimes I wonder if it was me who pushed him to cheat.
I know now that it’s more of a reflection of him, not me.
The first night we had sex, we were both drunk, angry, and hurt.
I remember it. I remember all of it. But I was also questioning if I did something wrong or if it was the right choice.
I was already confused and hurt because of Zayn, and then added on the confusion of having sex with Ezra for the first time.
I whisper his name.
He shifts his head towards me as he reaches down and intertwines our hands together. “Hmm?”
“Do you remember the first time we had sex?”
“Of course. I could never forget that night,” he says, tightening his grip on my hand. “Why do you ask?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Because you said something to me, and I’ve always wondered what you meant.” I pause for a moment, shifting my gaze to him. “Do you remember?”
“I remember. Do you?”
I nod. “You said it’s always been you.”
His bright green eyes lock onto me. “Because it always has been you.”
Those words hit hard. My mind flashes back to all my what-ifs I hide from everyone. Even myself. Where would my life have been if I had told him my actual feelings? Would he have cheated on me? Probably not. He’s not that type of guy.
“Do you think we married the wrong people?” I ask.
“At this moment, yes.” He pauses for a moment as if he’s searching for the right words to say. “But then I’ve always thought that maybe this is the direction our lives had to go in order for us to be at this moment right now.”
I shift my body to the side, resting my head on my hand. “What do you mean?”
“Like, what if we were the ones that got married and things didn’t work out? We were so young when we got married. Some young marriages don’t last because people are still growing and learning. You hear about marriages that grow apart and then you hear of those that your partner grows with you.”
“So you don’t think we would have grown together?”
He bites his lip and shrugs his shoulders.
“You just never know. I think we are the more mature ones and would have had a better chance of making it work. But I hate living in the past. I did that so much before we got married, and it ate me alive. There are a lot of things I regret. But with you, I’ve never regretted anything. ”
“What do you regret?”
He scoffs. “I take that back. The only thing I do regret with you is not telling you how I felt when we were younger. Sometimes I think that this is the way the universe wanted it to happen.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“I don’t know. I go back and forth on everything, and then I jumble my whole life and thoughts together, and then I get so exhausted. ”
I can’t help but giggle softly. It’s comforting knowing that it’s not only us women who get tangled up in our thoughts, replaying moments and analyzing every word or action.
We’re always told men don’t overthink, and that they’re simple.
But here Ezra is, clearly doing the same back-and-forth I do.
It’s nice hearing his side of things from a man’s perspective.
It makes me realize how similar we actually are.
“How do you feel about everything?” he asks, gently pulling me closer to him. His arms open, and I sink into him, resting my head against his chest.
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
I let out an exhale. “Sometimes I feel like I’m no better than Rya—”
He cuts me off. “Oh, trust me. You’re way better than she is.”
“Am I? I mean, we’re still married,” I say quietly, almost too scared to say the words myself.
“Those two deserve more than what we’ve ever given to them. A lifetime of lies and all we did was trust them.” He scoffs in disappointment, and I can feel his muscles tightening beneath me. “That is another regret I have—trusting them so much.”
I swallow hard. “I guess you’re right.”
“Are you regretting us?”
“No,” I say sternly, “That’s why I feel guilty because I don’t regret it. But I am also scared.”
“Scared of what?” he questions.
“I’ve already lost two of my best friends,” I say, my chest tightening. “I can’t bear to lose another.”
Mourning best friends is a strange heartache.
Sometimes I think it might be easier if they were dead because then I wouldn’t feel so stupid mourning relationships that hurt me beyond belief.
But that’s what makes me an actual human with real feelings.
So how can I feel so guilty about having these feelings and thoughts?
I get a sting in my chest every time I think back on our memories because they’re memories I held so deeply in my heart, and knowing those people betrayed me—both of us—hurts.
“You’re not going to lose me. Why do you think that?”
“I never thought I would lose Zayn and Rya, and look what happened. You just never know what could happen.” I press my lips together, almost regretting those words as if I’m asking the universe to make me lose another friend.
He pulls me in tighter, and I can feel the beat of his heart against my ear. “Trust me, you will never lose me. Even if things with us go bad, I will not let you go. I will be there for you for the rest of your life.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my heart hurt for you for so long that I can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life.”
My chest constricts at his words. Words I’ve never heard before.
They’re settling deep inside me, making me feel how I’ve always wanted to feel, and I’ve never realized I’ve never felt like someone would hate to lose me.
It’s not only him saying it, but in the short time we’ve had together he’s shown it.
“What do you think about giving us a chance?”
I lift my head from his chest and lock my gaze with his. “You’re going to think I’m dumb for saying this?”
His brows furrow. “I would never think that.”
“I’m scared of getting my heart broken again, and I can’t bear to lose you. But I sit here and act like we’re together, and I’m not stopping it. So it’s kind of hypocritical of me to say that.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s hypocritical of you.
It’s that so much has happened I feel like our past feelings threw us into this and it’s made it easy.
But talking about it has been hard since…
well, we haven’t exactly had the best of luck with us getting a chance to talk with how Zayn and Rya would show up out of nowhere. ”
Everything has been so easy and natural with him. I can see why it was so easy for us to fall into this. Nothing has felt forced.
“If you need more time, I understand.”
“That would be best. But then do we stop all of this?”
“All of what?”
“Acting like we’re together?”
“Don’t you dare,” he says, pulling me on top of him. He wraps his arms around me as a small giggle erupts. “Let’s take it day by day and see how things go.”
“Okay, I can do that.”