Chapter 26 – Freya
I woke up to the smell of clean bedsheets under me, a floral-scented comforter wrapped and tangled between my legs, and a smoothened empty space beside me.
I was not sure what it was, maybe an inkling or feeling or something , but I ran my palm down his side of the bed. Not one crease. Almost like he was never there. Except he was. When he came in late last night, kicked off his shoes, and went into the bathroom for a cold shower, I knew. When he silently crept into the right side of the bed, shirtless, wearing just briefs, and pulled me to his broad chest, forming into a spoon, I knew.
His grunt-like sleepy groans had drifted into my ears, and I wrestled with the temptation to open my eyes and watch him sleep. A conflict tore through me that I’d successfully subdued. But he always made it easy every morning, rising up and early and disappearing before I got the chance to steal a glimpse of him. I should have been used to it by now, his constant absence and the emptiness that not only resided in the bedroom but every other corner of the house.
Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head, careful not to overdo it. My eyes dropped past the peak of my perky nipples pushing through my thin MOM-TO-BE plain cropped white T-shirt to the smooth, shiny tummy bump peeking through. A lazy smile grew on my lips, and I rubbed the spot just below my belly button.
“Good morning, Mommy’s little angel,” I mumbled under my breath. “Trust you had a good sleep.”
I’d read in an article somewhere online about underrated things expecting mothers could do before childbirth, and having conversations with their babies was one of them. I’d gotten hooked on that tip and had been consistent now for seven months. It was truly the most exhilarating feeling ever, knowing my precious little thing heard me despite being snugly suspended in buoyant fluid and kept entertained by the soft beating of my heart that was so full of love for the tiny creature.
“Mommy loves you, baby. And Daddy, too.” I always almost forgot to add that part because it was still hard to wrap my head around the impossible possibility that my baby’s father could love anyone other than himself. “But she has to get this behind of hers off this bed and get on to attending to duties. You know, like eating breakfast for two, having a warm bath, and maybe finally having time to read Tommy Orange’s Wandering Stars . It’s been on that shelf for weeks now because Mommy has been preoccupied with preparing for your arrival.”
Grinning, and still reeling from the head-swirling therapeutic effect I got after every chat session, as I liked to call it, with my baby, I twisted gently and picked up my phone from the nightstand beside the bed frame. The smile on my lips waned, and my brows furrowed.
Three missed calls, all from my mother.
Before wondering why she would call three times so early in the morning, I flitted a glance to the top left of my screen, where the digital clock glared at me, white and bold.
“Nine? What knocked me out?”
Oh, I knew what had. Kicking my feet off the bed, I rubbed the faint ache at the small of my back, reliving last night and rewinding past the period when Egor had returned home, stopping at the exact moment when I decided to spoil myself with a healthy treat. Brussels sprouts, carrots, baby potatoes, green beans, cauliflower. Just name it. I had every freaking vegetable at my fingertips for my disposal. And dispose of them, I properly did.
Back to the matter at hand, I flicked another glance to my mother’s missed calls gleaming red on the white background of the call log, and it jogged back memories. The first one was the night on that pavement when Egor surprised me by giving my phone back, granting me access to the people who mattered to me the most, and the second one was when I finally summoned the courage to call my mother. Someone might have asked why I needed to summon courage for such an easy task, to dial the number of the woman I’d wanted to talk to, cry to, from the first day I’d been kidnapped. But it wasn’t such an easy task when that woman did not get an invite to your wedding and found out you were months pregnant with her grandchild.
So, I told her the only thing I could: a lie.
Like Ruby and John, my mom thought I was in Paris for some work-related thing. So, I only delivered a buttered and slightly over-coated version to them about finding a sudden connection with a dashing man in the city of love and that we traveled to Vegas and got married in the heat of things—a ploy to keep them off my backs about not getting an exclusive invite.
Then, Ruby drilled her suspicious questions about hushed rumors that spread around town about my marriage to the Egor Yezhov in Russia, a man who happened to be one of the world’s most dangerous human beings. I confirmed the news but thwarted it by adding that his family insisted and made sure it was a very, very private occasion for only his family, which was partly true. The defense was utter nonsense, if anyone asked me, but it stopped them from hurling more questions.
On my way out of the room, a brown tray holding a sealed bottle of water, a glass, and a pack of tablets on top of the dresser caught my attention. I walked over to it, already knowing who had put it there. A ghostly smile crossed my lips as I counted the tablets and unsealed the bottle’s cap.
So, here lay an exception to his early morning absence. It didn’t matter how late he came in or how early he rose to start the day’s business. Since Dr. Millie’s instruction, Egor had never missed one day of ensuring I didn’t leave the room without taking the prescribed drugs. Never. He had been consistent to a fault, proving his words true when he told the doctor that we’d do this together and he would not allow any harm to come to us.
I was so close to believing his intentions were genuine and without ulterior motives, especially after one time I’d made him laugh. The sight was so unnatural and surreal, like I’d been given the rare privilege to witness a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.
The picture burned freshly in my memory: the twinkle of his eyes when they lit up, the wide curve of his mouth making him appear years younger, and the sound of rich, genuine laughter rumbling through his vocal cords. I might have just melted on the spot and turned into a puddle.
And it was harder to keep nursing a grudge against him when lately, he held back no reservations, trying to do nice things: checking my diet, regulating stressless exercise routines that would not endanger me or the baby, and monitoring our health twenty-four-seven.
His sudden niceness made me wonder…was there a sliver of chance that I had misjudged him? Maybe there was some bit of goodness in him that was yet to manifest.
Shaking my head, I threw my head back to swallow the pills and went into the bathroom for a warm bath.
Ten minutes later, after a nice scrub, I was out and parading through the massive walk-in closet, wearing a matching red strappy convertible bra with comfy panties. After three months, I noticed my breasts had gotten fuller, my hips inched a bit wider, and my cheeks added a bit more puff, too.
In the beginning, I’d been uncomfortable with the changes, growing from slender to what I considered to be too weighty—not fat. But after frequent visits to Fidei Yuki, my young twenty-eight-year-old gynecologist, I read more and more about the physical, psychological, and emotional changes a woman’s body experienced during and even after pregnancy and mentally talked myself into embracing those new expansions. Even when I cried for no reason or craved the weirdest things, I didn’t mind.
So, as I rummaged through the hangers for loose baggy sweats and joggers to wear—my hair dangling down my back, brushing the curve of my ass—I didn’t feel less pretty.
I was humming a tune to myself, trying to decide between the green sweats or brown, when something actually pretty caught my eye.
Subconsciously, I dropped the sweats and reached for the magnifique masterpiece flowing from the hanger. I ran the downy fabric through my fingers and let my eyes coast over the plain but intricately woven seams. It was soft but stretchy, and I was sure it stopped a good length above my knees.
Without peeking at the tag, I knew it was expensive enough to cover a five-thousand-dollar mortgage. Egor could be that extravagant. But what got my attention were two understated details that could have been easily overlooked.
One, it was lilac. A dress gifted in my favorite color could not have been a coincidence. Two, it had a note—a tiny rectangular purple card attached to the strappy sleeve of the dress. Another sign that, yet again, Egor Yezhov did not do coincidences .
I plucked the note, read through it, and rolled my eyes.
Important dinner at 8. Wear this.
x, Egor.
That was definitely an order, but it was my favorite color, so I would wear it. He must have been laughing now, finally making me do his bidding without having me stage a resistance.
Egor: 1.
Freya: 0.
****
At seven on the dot, he was at the door, freshly shaven and in a white dress shirt tucked into black slacks, smelling like money, fresh air, and Sauvage Elixir . I recognized the scent because it was Malibu John’s favorite.
His eyes were hard when they traveled from my wedge heels, licking intensely over the rest of my body, past the glossy lipstick on my lips to the lush waves I’d made in my hair with the help of some hair products an influencer recommended on YouTube, a roller, and a hairdryer.
But he didn’t comment. He set his lips in a thin line when he reached forward to help me down the stairs— not like I needed any help —and led me to the car.
I didn’t bother asking him where we were having this important dinner. He was not going to answer.
We arrived at a fancy restaurant that was quite popular around town and had gained fast recognition nationwide for its special pasta, steak, and intercontinental dishes. I’d never tried anything on their menu, but I looked forward to it. When Egor led me inside, and we stepped into the warm bubble of hushed conversations and laughter, my hopes had already started a mountain climb.
At the mere glimpse of my husband, a man at the reception went stark pale. I gave his shiny brown suit a once-over, and my brows twitched in surprise at his vintage coiffure.
Endomorph structure, black horn-rimmed glasses, and a spine as stiff as a stick when he gave us a curt nod.
“Mr. Yezhov. Good…good evening, sir. We’ve been expecting—”
“Lead the way, Dudley.”
The poor man almost tripped over his own words at Egor’s impatience. “Yes, sir, madam. Right this way.”
With a cheesy grin, I mumbled so he could hear, “Mr. Yezhov, huh? You must really get off on this kingly treatment. Seems like you’re popular around these parts.”
I didn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to to know the corner of his firm mouth was pulled tight when he responded.
“I own the place.”
The smirk on my lips faded.
Right.
Of course, he owns the place.
He wasn’t only a dangerous criminal; he was a real-life businessman, too, and I wondered just how many more establishments he owned in Los Angeles and just how much of this man I was yet to know.
When we walked past the seating areas, my hopes fell, and suspicions rose. I had to bite my tongue from asking Dudley where he was taking us. But as it turned out, I didn’t have to.
Soon, we were being ushered to a dark rooftop with a breathtaking view of the city under the canvas of the night sky. Unable to hold back, I opened my mouth to ask my darling husband if he had finally gotten creative with ways to murder me when bright, blinding lights came on from every corner, and a chorus of voices shouted, “Surprise!”
Someone whistled, music started playing, and loud laughter rang out as people walked up to us to share their hearty congratulations.
After Nadia waltzed up to me, complimented my dress, and expressed her own share of congratulations, my heart skipped a beat at the reveal of four figures I thought I would never ever see again until I kicked the bucket. Time seemed to pause, and the world around us faded into nothing.
“Mom?”
Those darn hormones.
Her warm smile and sparkling eyes made my chest swell with emotion. It had been years since we’d last seen each other, and the ache of her absence had never truly faded; as always, she wrapped me in her arms, suffocating me with her chamomile-floral scent and lots of love.
“I’ve missed you, baby.”
Emotion and thick, hot tears filled my voice when I buried my face in her neck. “I missed you so much, Mommy.”
Next to her was Zeya, my little sister, who had grown into a beautiful young woman. She was almost as tall as me now. Her bright smile and twinkling eyes made my heart sing. I remembered the few times I’d visited, the nights I’d stayed up late, reading her stories, and the mornings I’d helped her get ready for school. The distance between us had felt like an eternity.
Zeya flung her arms around my waist, holding me close as if she’d never let me go again.
“My big baby.” I kissed her hair, struggling to hold back the tears and allow a smile to shine through. “I’m super glad that you’re here. We have so much to catch up on: school, friends, life… boys .”
She laughed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sure we’ll have all the time to talk about those things. For now, just enjoy the night. This is all for you. Congratulations, Freya. I love you so much. Mom and I will be around, just in case you need us. You have so many people here who want to say hi.”
“I love you, too, pumpkin. And I’ll always need you guys.”
She stepped away with a bright smile, and behind her stood Ruby—my confidante, my best friend. Her eyes shone with happy tears as she held up a pink-slash-blue balloon, and I felt a lump form in my throat. Fresh tears welled up.
“Ru….”
She crashed into me, sniffling.
“I don’t…. I can’t even begin to tell you how scared I was. I couldn’t reach you. No one knew anything. You wouldn’t even go to Cloud 9, and then, all of a sudden, Paris?”
She was crying and touching me gently, inspecting me with concern and joy. My heart clenched. She didn’t need to voice her fears; I knew a part of her had thought I was dead.
“Hey…hey, look at me. I’m fine, okay? I’m good.” I’m good now that you’re all here. “Everything is fine.”
“I know. Silly me.” She laughed in the midst of tears. “Tonight is for celebrations and, maybe, getting laid, if I can.”
We laughed. Ruby was back.
“There are so many hunks here, it’s hard to choose.” Her laughter quietened. “On a more serious note, I cannot wait to find out. Congratulations, sweetie. I’m so happy for you. You deserve only the best things,” she squealed when she pulled away from our embrace, and I finally took a good look at the exceptional décor that surrounded me.
Every detail was meticulously thought out. The rooftop was bathed in a soft, lilac hue, courtesy of the numerous balloons that floated gently above, their delicate sheen catching the light. The acrylic chairs, sleek and modern, added a touch of sophistication, while the tables were adorned with an array of delectable food and an exquisite cake that seemed almost too beautiful to eat.
So, that was what this was: a gender reveal party.
I touched the red highlights on her smooth, dark bob. “Girl, I love what you did with your hair.”
“I know, right?” Her pale cheeks reddened with a blush. “Hopefully, that guy over there will notice. Gotta go now. The early bird gets the biggest dick, or is that not how they say it?”
Before I could throw back a response through bubbles of chuckles, she waltzed away with her little black dress and nude stiletto heels.
The rush of emotions that came with seeing loved ones after a long separation was indescribable. It was as if the very fabric of my being was infused with an electric sense of joy, relief, and love. Every fiber of my soul vibrated with excitement, like the hum of a harp string plucked to perfection.
With a happy skip, I turned around, craning my neck to see the man who brought me here, when I walked head-first into a solid chest covered with a leather jacket and black t-shirt. His scent hit my nose before our eyes met. Sauvage Elixir.
A tidal wave of feelings crashed over me, threatening to overwhelm my senses, and his name left my lips in a shocked whisper.
“J-John?”
To say I was shocked to see him here, on the rooftop of Egor’s restaurant, at my gender reveal party, would have been the understatement of the year.
He raked his guarded gaze over my appearance in one sweep and slid his hands into his pockets. Tension rolled off his shoulders; he clamped his jaw and narrowed his eyes at me.
“You look beautiful, Freya. You always do.”
The way he said my name…was different. Different from the hundred times he’d said it back in the office or joked around when he called me Detective Fox. Now, it sounded heavy, burdened with unveiled emotion that expressed nothing and a lot of unspoken things at the same time.
Another lump formed in my throat, and I recognized it. Guilt. I reached for his arm but didn’t hold him. I couldn’t.
My arms fell back to my sides, and the apologies began tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “John, I swear, I’m so sorry that—”
“Apologies will only make me feel worse. So, please don’t. Besides, you have nothing to apologize for. Your husband, though….”
He sucked in a deep breath and shut his eyes. When he opened them, he looked like the John I recognized—the happy John, without the hate and unexplainable emotion residing in his eyes.
“You know who sold us out?”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “I heard.” I swallowed. “It was Mila, wasn’t it?”
He laughed, but it sounded like an empty echo from a void. “Found out she was fucking a Yezhov, too. Funny, huh? I told you she wasn’t my type, didn’t I? And the person who was my type is now married and seven months pregnant for the son of a bitch who had his brother break my ribs.”
Tears stung my eyes, and I reached for his arm again, but I felt nothing when I held him. Like no emotion could pass through. I flinched, withdrawing my fingers.
“John, I’m really so—”
“He’s a jerk, Freya. Your husband, I mean. He’s a fucking asshole. But he is crazy about you. Literally. Enough to kidnap you and marry you.”
I froze. I felt like I’d been slapped with a wet fish. My eyes widened to saucer-like proportions, and my jaw dropped so low it almost dislocated. My brain struggled to process the information.
Egor? Crazy about me? Has the world gone mad?
I mentally rattled while trying to maintain a semblance of composure, almost laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Almost. But John didn’t give me time to explain before backing away with a sad smile.
“John, wait. It’s not what you—”
“Be happy, Freya. I’ll see you around.”
He flipped a salute, and I watched the broadness of his back swiftly disappear in the crowd of people. I wished it didn’t feel so much like a final goodbye.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled before pivoting on my heels to resume my search for my husband.
After passing ten gyrating bodies at the center of the rooftop, I found him at a corner, with one hand in his pocket and the other going through his hair.
God, this man is sexy, even without extra effort.
A man like him, with all that rough ruggedness, tended to stand out in the midst of balloons and cake.
He was in the company of three tall men. Two I recognized, and the other I didn’t. One of them was Arlo, the lawyer—the fine man with the buzzcut and buffy shoulders who had knocked me out in my apartment months back, which was slowly starting to feel like a lifetime ago.
When Anatoly’s eyes met mine, he muttered something to them, and all eyes turned to me. I marched up to Egor’s side, feeling small beside his sturdy frame and even smaller when he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
“Are you okay? Is the baby fine?”
The warmth of his breath tickled my chin, and I forced myself to concentrate on the reason I’d sought him out and not how much I wanted to lean into him.
“Yes. Yes, we’re fine.” I licked my lips, still holding his eyes. “Egor, did you…did you do all this?”
Just as he was about to speak, someone else cut in.
“ All this? Uh, no. Technically, I did, with Alex’s help.”
I raised my head to stare at the source of the husky voice, and…I blinked. And blinked again to be sure that my vision hadn’t doubled.
The resemblance was uncanny. They shared almost everything except the eyes. While Egor’s were green, he had sharp brown eyes that left little unnoticed. But the height, stature, firm lips, chiseled jawline, and a body that belonged to gods were all intact. While the others put on semi-formal clothes, he wore an olive T-shirt with black leather pants, a pair of black Timberlands, and a leather jacket slung over his arm. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he was a biker.
Yeah . This had to be the other Yezhov on the low radar.
“You must be….”
“Nikolai Yezhov. Korol’s brother.” He extended a hand, and I noticed the fascinating midnight blue-black butterflies-on-thorns tattoo draped from his elbow to his wrist. “It’s finally nice to meet the woman who stole my brother’s peace of mind. And yeah, you’re more fucking gorgeous in person.”
“Niko,” Egor growled half-heartedly, and I heard myself laugh. He had this ease around him that made me instantly relax.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet the most talked about Niko, who always forgets to set his alarms for important meetings.”
His smile was as charming as his face. “Guilty as charged.”
“Who’s Alex, though?”
He glanced over my shoulder. “A certified event planner. She helped get this place together. Plus, Arlo chipped in the part about including your favorite color. So, technically, we did all the work here.”
Instinctively, my gaze fleeted to my dress and back to Egor, who looked a little bit annoyed.
I opened my mouth to say something, but an excited voice on the microphone snatched the attention of the guests.
“It’s time for the reveal, everyone.”
My brows wrinkled. “But how—”
“Look at the sky, wife.”
I stood beside him, scanning the horizon, expecting something out of the ordinary, but I saw nothing. Just as I was about to turn back to him, a burst of pink light illuminated the sky. Fireworks exploded above us, delicate pink unfolding like petals in the sky.
Screams and cheers erupted from all around, and I gasped in wonder. “We’re having a girl?” I exclaimed, my voice barely above a whisper, and he nodded, his eyes giving a subtle hint of happiness.
I felt my heart swell with joy, and without realizing it, I grasped his hand tightly, my fingers intertwining with his. Electricity went through our fingers, and the twitch on his brow told me he’d felt it, too, but neither of us let go.
As the fireworks continued to dance across the sky, something deep and warm passed between us. My heart soared, skipping beats, and then raced with giddy excitement. The world around us melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence.
We stood there, hands entwined, basking in the magic of the moment. The cheers and applause faded into the background, and I gazed into his eyes, feeling like I was melting into his happiness. In that instant, everything felt right with the world.
Everything felt right with him by my side.
****
The door closed behind us, and the clicks of his shoes echoed as he walked to the kitchen, pulling the fridge open to take out a bottle of water. Quietly, I followed after him, like a puppy, watching his Adam’s apple bob while he chugged down the water. His eyes held mine as he screwed the cap back on and, with two steady strides, covered the space keeping us apart.
My heartbeat and blood roared in my ears when he stood so close.
“Thank you, Egor. For tonight. For my mother, and Zeya, and Ruby.” And John. “I know you were as involved in the planning and preparation as your brother and Arlo were. It was so…so special, and I….” The words died on my tongue when I noticed a flame flickering in his eyes. It was bright, clear, and ferocious.
“You’re welcome.” He reached for my chin, grazed my lower lip with his thumb, and pushed back the locks of my wavy hair behind my ears. “Are you feeling tired?”
His question threw me off-course and lit up a sudden anticipation that hummed in my veins.
“Uh, no…no, I’m not. Why?”
He inched closer, his fingers covering the length of my throat in a gentle grasp, and the look in his eyes scorched me before his words did.
“I want to fuck you, Freya.”
He called my name with need, desire, something more desperate that we both understood but could not explain. I leaned into his touch.
“I’ve been wanting to rip this dress off all night. You are so fucking beautiful.”
He stuck his thumb in my mouth, and without thinking, I closed my lips on it, sucked, and batted my lashes as I peered up at him.
He tugged on my jaw, opened my mouth, and brushed his lips on the corner of mine. “I want to fucking kiss you, wife.”
“And you’re still talking.”
He didn’t wait—didn’t pause to think. Didn’t even breathe.
His mouth covered mine, kissing me with the hunger of a starved predator, all caution thrown to the wind. He cupped my chin, prying my mouth open with his fingers to deepen the kiss, to taste my tongue with his. I moaned loudly into his mouth, driven delirious with an insane need to have every inch of this man in every way I could.
I grabbed the collar of his shirt, stood on my tiptoes, and fought equally to show him how much I wanted him. He staggered from the force of the impact but gripped my waist to steady us both.
I pulled back, only to trail kisses from his lips and neck to his jawline. I sucked on his pulse, and his deep, husky groans vibrated through my entire body, causing a slow-building warmth to spread to my core.
His fingers went into my hair and down my back and were suddenly everywhere. He slipped an arm under my dress, cupped my ass, squeezed, and smacked.
I yelped, and he drove me more insane with that rich, velvety laugh of his.
“I love it when you laugh,” I blurted against his mouth before I could stop myself, and his eyes turned serious again, his kisses slowing down.
“And you drive me crazy, Freya.”
My breath hitched, a different kind of tingle shot through my body, and John’s voice floated in my head.
But he’s crazy about you. Literally.
“I’m taking you on the counter. And it’s going to be quick.”
He rasped with urgency, fiery passion, and need when he hoisted me from the floor, hooking my ankles at the base of his spine when he sat me on the counter.
He latched one hand on my breast and squeezed through the downy fabric. My nipple peaked in his palm, and my breaths grew ragged when he watched me closely. I held my bottom lip between my teeth to muffle my sighs when he skillfully unzipped his slacks with his free hand and shrugged them down to knee level.
Hastily, I wiggled my panties, watching them drape my ankles like lacy ankle cuffs, and the sight was amusing. I wasn’t sure which was hotter: us being excited like horny teenagers about to have sex partly dressed or him fighting to regain control of his visible eagerness to bury himself inside me. Knowing I held that much power over him only intensified the throbbing between my thighs.
I grabbed him, ran my hand down his hard, thick length, and positioned his tip at my slick.
“Then, let’s make it count,” I murmured against his mouth and thrust myself on his shaft.
We gasped together, and a sob caught in my throat at how good he felt inside me. He began slow and steady, then grew urgent and as ruthless as I knew him to be. And I liked it. I wanted it—begged him for it. For the first time, I pleaded for him to fuck me hard.
The sudden burst of profanity surprised us both and threw us even deeper into a pool of bliss. I closed my eyes, threw my head back, dug my nails into his shirt, and whimpered and moaned as he scattered soft kisses in my hair, on my face, and neck, all the while keeping me pinned on the counter and around his waist as he plunged into me, hitting depths that sprung sweet tears of satisfaction to my eyes.
I couldn’t take it anymore, and with a ground-shattering explosion, I trembled in his arms, coming violently on him.
His muscles flexed under my palm, and he went still, writhing as the grunt of my name fell from his lips, followed by the hot burst of his essence filling me up.
He collapsed on me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, and I stroked his hair and the base of his spine, loving the feel of him under my fingers.
I opened my mouth, overwhelmed with emotion. “Egor, I….”
Two words hung on the tip of my tongue, and I gulped them back like bitter pills, not ready to shatter the moment with a blurt from a spur of the moment.
“You what?” He searched my face, and I masked my conflict with a smile.
“I’m hungry.”
He laughed again, baring white teeth as he pulled himself out of me, arranged his clothes and mine, and lifted me off the counter, carrying me bridal style to the bedroom.
“Firstly, we’ll have to get you cleaned up, and then we’ll make something to eat.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t resist; I tilted my head upwards and kissed his cheeks.
Something had started inside me like a wildfire, growing bigger and bigger as it licked up every obstacle on its path. I recognized that it might have still been tender, but its intensity was undeniable.