EPILOGUE PT.1

Z A R A

"What's on your mind, my love?" Alejandro asks softly.

"Our wedding anniversary is coming up," I state.

"Is it, now?" There's a mischievous tone to his voice.

He pulls me closer, and my back curls back against the chest.

"It is," I say slowly. "Can I ask for something?"

"You can ask for the stars, my love, and I'll find a way to present them to you," he murmurs against my ear, giving me goosebumps.

Our relationship has been... as stable as a relationship can be with all the horrible things that happened to us in the past year.

Of course, we fight. And I always—and will always—bring up the way he's hurt me in the past. There's no coming back from that and Alejandro has accepted that. He knows I'll bring it up whether on purpose or by accident because those events burned an unfixable hole in my heart. I may be able to forgive but I'll never be able to forget.8

But he's trying, whether it's genuine effort or not, he is trying. We go to weekly therapy sessions to work on ourselves and our mental health. It's helped us come a long way from the broken, toxic space we were in just a year ago.

However, it's not a permanent fix. There will always be holes in our relationship, there will always be dark memories we won't be able to forget, and there will always be lingering hurt from past situations. It's just something we have to deal with together for the rest of our lives.

I trace above the lines on the palm of his hands. "The stars, huh?" I smile.

"The stars, my love," I can hear the smile on his face.

"I won't ask for the stars... at least not today," I say. "Can we go to Bali for our anniversary? We never went on a honeymoon so I thought..."

"Done," he kisses the back of my hand.

"We'll go to Bali for our anniversary."

"Promise?" I say with hope.

"I promise," he reassures me.

"You've been canceling on me a lot recently..." I frown.

He's canceled on me way too many times this year and it's been getting on my nerves. I try to be understanding, his work is... tough. But it starts getting hard when you're all alone and the only other person you have is your husband who you barely see.

I turn around to face him. "Promise me you won't back out on this trip?"

"I won't," he gives me a soft smile. "I'll have Charlotte book everything for the trip."

"Can we go shopping before we leave? Together?"

"I'm not sure if I'll have time to go shopping," he sighs.

"Please?" I pout, tracing my finger down his chest.

"God, you drive me crazy. I'll make time, then," he says.

I grin and give him a kiss, which he always has to turn into something much more passionate. His hand grips my waist and my hands slip through his hair.

I grind against his thigh, acquiring a low moan from him.

His kisses turn deeper, his tongue swirling around mine. My hand presses against erection, teasing it until I think he'll be ready to pin me to the bed.

But he doesn't. Instead, he pushes me off gently.

"Not tonight," he says, still trying to catch his breath. "I have an early morning meeting tomorrow."

I frown. "A quickie?"

He shakes his head, "Another time, I promise."

I nod. "Shall we go to bed, then?"

He pulls me into his arms again, curling up against my back.

As we lay there in silence, I wonder if he's worried about something.

"Alejandro?" I call out softly.

"Mhm?"

"Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer, so I turn around to face him. I stroke his cheek, even in the dark he's the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on.

He caresses my bottom lip with his thumb, staring at my lips debating on whether to kiss me or not. Then, decides against it, letting his hand rest on my cheek.

"I'm fine. Just exhausted," he says quietly.

"Are you sure? I'm always here to listen," I let him know.

He nods, bringing my hand to his lips, letting his mouth linger on my wrist for a bit before pulling my hand to hold against his chest.

"Just tired," his words are fading as he sounds like he's about to fall asleep. "Very, very tired."

I nuzzle closer against him, letting the warmth of his embrace swallow me whole.

"I love you," I whisper, but he's already fallen asleep to reply.

• • •

Alejandro canceled on me again.

I ended up shopping with Charlotte. But it's okay. It's alright. I'm not crazy close to lose my mind. I'm not.

We still have our Bali trip tomorrow.

Except, he hasn't come home night tonight. He's going to cancel our anniversary trip, isn't he?

Anger arises from within me, each nerve being set on fire. He's canceled so many dates, lunches, dinners, and trips with me. Excuse after excuse. Apologies after apologies. I can only take so much of him avoiding me.

Actually, he's been avoiding me like the plague... did I do something? I lie awake thinking about every possible thing I could've done wrong but can't think of a single event because honestly, he's barely spent any time with me in the last couple of months.

I turn my head to the clock, 11:45 PM.

Hours go by and I check again: 1:15 AM.

3:00 AM.

3:45 AM, the door to our bedroom clicks open.

"Do you hate me?" I ask, knowing he's standing there.

"Zara," Alejandro's clearly surprised to see me awake. "It's late, my love. Get some rest."

He starts taking off his coat, preparing to go to the bathroom.

"Do you hate me?" I repeat myself.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're losing interest in me, aren't you? You don't want me anymore. You're bored of me," my tone rises with ferocity. "Are you tired of the toy, now that it's all used and abused?"

"Zara—"

"You've canceled on me a million times in the last couple of months. You barely have sex with me, you barely let me touch you!" I raise my voice. "Is this it, then? You're done playing with me? I'm no longer fun to you?"

"That's not it and you know it!" He yells back.

"I don't! I don't know it, Alejandro!" I get off from our bed, approaching him with every intent to hurt him. "You're always acting like I'm carrying a fucking disease!"

"I'm just fucking busy! Why can't you understand that?" He shouts.

"You're canceling tomorrow's trip, aren't you?" I ask calmly, getting a hold on myself.

He pauses. "Oh, fuck. That's tomorrow—"

I raise my hand up to stop him from speaking further. "It's fine. I should've known my importance in your life was only going to last this long."

"Zara, please," his tone is full of desperation but I don't care. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I truly forgot."

"Fuck you, Alejandro! I'm out here pouring in every inch of myself to you, trying hard to make us work, only for you to pull shit like this where you pretend I don't exist," I walk past him to the door.

"You're fucking overreacting!" His hand is formed into a fist. "It's just a fucking trip!"

"Just a fucking trip? This is the 8th trip you supposedly 'forgot', but this is the millionth plan you canceled on me!" I open the door but I let slip one of the nastiest comments before leaving the room, "I should've known you would do to me what your mother did to your father. Like mother, like son—"

Oh shoot, that was low, even for me. I shouldn't have said that. God, I shouldn't have said that.

His expression turns murderous almost instantly. Not only did I hit a nerve, but I also demolished his whole being with one just small comment.

"Alejandro," I try to reach out my hand. "I'm sor—"

"Get out!" He yells with such rage, that it makes me flinch. He hits the wall with his fist, denting it, "Get the fuck out!"

I don't think twice before running out of our—his—room to the room I was given when I first arrived here. I sit down on the bed, the view from this room is still just as stunning except I can't see it because of the tears blurring my vision.

I bring my knees against my chest, resting my chin on them as I cry out from the aching feeling in my chest. Is he really done with me? Is this the end for us? Again?

Why are we always like this? Why can't we just be like other couples? Why are our problems always so much bigger?

All I want is to be loved by him, please, that's all I'm asking for.

• • •

Days? A week? Two weeks? How long has it been since I last saw Alejandro? Heard him? Touched him?

In reality, it's only been a couple of days. But it feels like more because I haven't gone this long without at least a glimpse of him in so long.

"Screw him! He's been so inattentive and neglectful of me, why should I have to go and say something?" I frown.

But, what I said to him... about him being like his mother. I shouldn't have gone that far, I should've shut my mouth before those words left its vicinity.

My guilt only grows in size when Charlotte comes home to tell me why Alejandro's been absent.

"About three months ago, Boss found his father's bones—or what was left of him, at least," she explains.

"What?!" I drop my fork on the table.

"Turns out, his father didn't go into hiding or run away. He was murdered by Philip, decapitated and the rest of him cut into multiple pieces," Charlotte scrunches her nose in disturbance. "The post-mortem report said that his father endured intense torture before the decapitation killed him."

"I think I'm going to be sick," I hold down bile.

"Boss has been pretty out of it since the discovery. He's been even more furious at everything. He's annoyed by the slightest reasons. He's been much more reckless as well, hurting himself relentlessly for small tasks."

God, is that why he came home with more and more minor injuries?

As Charlotte drifts off into a different topic, my thoughts are plagued with utter guilt.

But he hasn't told me any of this!

But I knew something was off for a while, I should've pushed him a little harder to open up...

But I reminded him almost every day that he can share every one of his burdens with me and he keeps the biggest one to himself!

We're so bad at this. No amount of therapy is going to help how disorganized and chaotic our relationship is.

After what I said... the chances of him even wanting to look at me are low.

• • •

The door squeaks open and I hear Alejandro's disorderly footsteps make his way to his room.

I should apologize, but so should he! But damn, what I said was a hundred times worst.

I sigh and drag myself out the bed, quietly making my way to his room.

I notice drops of red leading down the hall to the room and my heart drops. I bolt into a run, opening the door to find him splayed out on the couch in his room, bleeding from the arm.

"Alejandro? What happened?" I ask softly, careful not to spook him.

His head perks up at the sound of my voice, his gaze is shooting daggers at me.

He's still upset, as he should be. But there's a craving look in his eyes as he watches me.

He's missed me, I try to hold in my smile.

"Get out," he says flatly.

"You're hurt," I state.

"Get out," his tone is much more forceful this time.

"No." If he can be stubborn, so can I.

I grab the first aid kit from the nightstand and approach him carefully. He doesn't turn his head to look when I balance myself on my knees in between his legs. The position is too intimate, my insides begin to light up with the need to touch him, to have him touch me but those thoughts are extremely inappropriate.

The cut wasn't too deep and the bleeding seems to have stopped by the time I cleaned up the wound.

"Are you done?" He asks, annoyed.

"Almost. Be patient," I say as I wrap the gauze around his arm.

The second I finish, he snatches his arm away from me, making my heart sting a little.

"That's enough. Now, get out," he demands.

"Can you please hear me out—"

"I said get the fuck—"

I don't give him a chance to finish. I pull him into a kiss to shut him up. This may make or break me.

Instead of pushing me off, he aggressively pulls me into him, kissing me harder, deeper. I wrap my arms around his neck, savoring every inch of his mouth. He pulls me onto his lap, making me wrap my legs around his waist.

"Fuck you," his voice is low and hoarse.

"Fuck you, too," I murmur. He bites down on my bottom lip, making me yelp, "Ow!"

But I can't stop, I can't stop myself from touching him, feeling him, needing him.

He lifts me up and takes me to the bed, throwing me onto it.

"You made me so fucking mad, Zara." His mouth finds the edge of my jaw, leaving small, aggressive down my neck to my chest.

Then, he proceeds to pull off with my top and bottoms, his expression still forming into a scowl. Except, this time, with an added bit of lust.

He uses his middle two fingers and rubs my clit while sucking on my nipples, sending my body into overdrive.

I go to grip his hair, only for him to pin my arms down. "No, my love, you don't get to touch me."

He's kissing me, fingers circling around my nipples, tugging at them. They weren't gentle tugs, he was pinching them and pulling on them hard. The roughness isn't something I could've handled a year ago but now, my body finds pleasure in it. My back arches at the sensation when he shifts his attention to my other breast. He shoves his hand into my underwear, finding my pussy dripping for him.

A slight smirk appears on his lips, "You're soaking wet from just your tits?"

I whimper, not being able to answer him. He slips a finger inside of me while biting my nipple, making my body go rigid against him. I feel my pelvic muscles clench, ready to give out until he slips out his finger just before I reached the end.

"Be a good girl and flip over," he says as he undoes his belt.

He just slides my panties to the side and runs the head of his cock between the lips of my pussy. I push back against him slightly when he lines himself up with my entrance and slams himself into me.

He slowly pulls out, wrapping my hair around his hand and wrist, and he yanks my head back violently as he thrusts into me roughly. I gasp for air, moaning out his name.

He thrusts in and out, picking up the speed as my back arches further for him. This isn't anywhere near romantic, nor was it our usual sex or making love. He's fucking the hell out of me. He's using his cock as a pleasurable punishment, and I'm okay with it because my body's easily submitting to him ramming my pussy.

He leans down to my ear, pushing himself deeper into me but pausing his movements, "Are you enjoying my cock, my love?"

I nod, too breathless to answer.

"Did you miss me?" His voice is deep and rough. "Did you miss my cock filling up your pussy?"

I nod again.

He pulls my hair faintly, "I asked a question, and I expect an answer."

"I did," I whisper.

"You did what?" He demands, letting go of my hair and wrapping his hand around my throat instead.

"I missed you. I missed the feeling of your cock inside of me," I manage to say.

"Good girl," satisfied with the answer, he continues to fuck me into oblivion.

He's groaning and grunting behind me and it turns me on in the sexiest way. His hand that was around my throat is now gripping my breast, twisting and turning the nipple.

"Fuck, Zara," moans as he comes very close to climaxing. I tighten my walls around him, forcing him to edge even closer, he grips my waist, moaning my name over and over again.

Music to my ears.

"You're such a good girl," he kisses my back as his thrusts start faltering. "You're my good girl."

His words send me into overdrive, along with the fingers he's working around my clit. I feel him spurting, filling me with his seed as I come around him.

We both collapse onto the bed and he pulls me against him.

"You're the only person in the world who can make me angry and horny at the same time," he murmurs into my hair. He slides off of the bed and extends his hand for me to take. "Come, take a bath with me."

"Your arm?" I ask quietly, looking at the white gauge on his arm being tinted red.

He only gives me a small smile. "I've had my chest sliced open, my love. A small cut doesn't do much to me."

Once we're submerged into the warm water, his chest against my back, his legs sprawled around me. I lean back against his chest, seeking the comfort I've missed for the last couple of days.

"I missed you, my love," he says sweetly, wrapping me into an embrace. "God, it was driving me insane that I didn't see you. I should've been more understanding of my actions towards you. I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner."

Unexpectedly, I burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Alejandro. I'm so sorry," I cry harder.

I didn't expect these tears, it just kind of... popped out. It's almost like I've been pushing down these feelings for a long.

"Zara?" There's genuine concern in his tone. He turns me around so I'd be facing him. "Zara, my love, why are you crying?"

"I feel like I'm getting worst and you're getting better," I sniffle. "I feel like I'm becoming a bitch and you're becoming a saint."

"Oh, my love. My sweet, sweet Zara," he makes me rest my head against his shoulder as I wrap my legs around his waist.

"I'm far from being a saint and you're far from being a bitch. Why would you think in such a way?"

"How could I not?" I let more tears slip down my cheeks. "I shouldn't have said such hurtful things, knowing how much damage it would do to you. Yes, you were canceling on me. Yes, you stopped touching me. But you weren't hurting me either, I was only irritated. You were trying for us, you were affection enough with me, and yet I couldn't understand you were in pain."

He kisses my forehead. "Zara, my love. You had every right to be angry and hurt with me because I was pulling away after I promised I'd love you. I'm sure Charlotte has informed you of my misfortunes but that isn't an excuse for my behavior. You had every right to feel afraid and insecure that I was becoming distant."

"But I had said such indecent things—"

"I'm sorry I pushed you to the edge to the point where you had to blow up. You dealt with my aloof behavior for months and I just let it happen because I couldn't let my sorrow impact you, not after all the shit I put you through already. I distanced myself to protect you but it backfired, didn't it?"

I look up at him, wrinkling my nose.

"Where's my Alejandro and what have you done to him?"

He only chuckles, giving me a quick peck on the lips. "He's hopefully gone and doesn't plan on returning because you deserve a better version of him."

"Promise me you won't hide things from me anymore?" I ask, hopeful he'll take these promises seriously.

"I promise, only if you promise to let me fuck you to oblivion on our vacation in Bali," he smirks.

My ears perk up. "We're still going?"

"I won't let you down again," he says, holding me close.

"Angry sex beats to a different drum," I randomly comment.

He smirks, trailing a finger down back, making me shiver. "Don't wish for something you can't handle, my love."

"And what if I do wish?" I raise a brow challenging him.

"You'll be leaving Bali in a wheelchair, my Zara," he states nonchalantly.

I gulp nervously, yet my body reacts with curiosity.

Damn, I'm really in the mood to leave Bali in a wheelchair, aren't I?

• • •