Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
And when it finally happened—when we came together, bodies trembling, hearts pounding in sync—it felt like I had done exactly what I set out to do. I had marked her, left a part of myself buried deep inside, even if there was the barrier of the condom between us.
The aftershocks hit harder than I expected. So hard I almost let it show. I almost let my emotions spill out in the open where I couldn’t take them back.
Almost.
Chapter 14
Sayla
The house smelled like plaster dust and damp wood, but at least the lights worked now. The contractors had done a solid job rewiring everything and were nearly finished with the plumbing. Obviously, I didn’t have a bath since it had fallen straight through the ceiling like some kind of tragic slapstick joke, but I had running water. That counted for something. I could go to my parent’s place in the morning to shower, and having that extra time with them wasn’t that bad.
The new bathroom was waiting on the structural repairs, which, in theory, should be finished within the week. They’d found more damage than anyone expected, hidden rot and warped beams, all of which I’d had to report to the insurance company. Fingers crossed, they'd cover it. Still, the idea of packing up and moving in with my sister or parents, even temporarily until it was done, didn’t sit right with me. Sure, it would’ve made life easier, but I didn’t want to be too far from Roque—especially not today.
I walked to the front window and gently tilted the wooden blinds open, peering through the slats just as Roque’s car pulled into his driveway across the street. My breath caught. He got out, gently holding Kairo’s hand while Kaida was curled up against his chest, her little arms around his neck. My heart melted at the sight, but that warmth turned quickly into worry.
They’d been through so much already, losing their parents and being uprooted from everything familiar. I didn’t even know if they truly understood what "gone forever" meant regarding their mom and dad. The weight of it pressed down on me, thick and heavy.
I let the blinds fall back into place and sighed, my chest tight. The silence of the half-repaired house suddenly felt too much. I grabbed my bag and keys, deciding to head to my sister’s. A visit with my niece and nephew might lift my spirits—and I could finally have a proper bath, hopefully without it crashing through the ceiling this time.
I hovered by the window for a moment longer, watching Roque carry the kids inside. Kaida had her head tucked against his shoulder, curls bouncing slightly with each step. Kairo trailed close, his small hand still clenched tightly in Roque’s. My phone was already in my hand before I even realized it.
“You okay? Need anything?” I typed, thumb hesitating over the send button for a second before I pressed it.
The message went through instantly, but I didn’t wait around for a reply. He had enough on his plate, and I knew he’d text back when he could.
I slipped on my boots and shrugged into my jacket, stuffing a few things into my bag—a change of clothes, some toiletries, and the good conditioner my sister always tried to steal. Locking up took longer than it should’ve, mostly because I double-checked everything out of habit. The house was still in recovery mode, and part of me didn’t trust it not to fall apart the second I walked away.
The air outside was cool, early evening creeping in, and the sky was beginning to tint that soft shade of lavender. I glanced over at Roque’s house as I got into my car, but the curtains were drawn now. The lights were on. They were safe, that was enough.
When I reached my sister’s place, the smell of something rich and buttery was drifting from the kitchen. She opened the door with one hip, my baby nephew Kingston on her arm, and a smudge of flour on her cheek.
“Hey,” she said, eyebrows lifting. “Rough day?”
I gave her a half-smile. “Define rough.”
She stepped aside, letting me in with a knowing look. “The bath’s clean and hot. The towels are in the usual place. Dinner’s in an hour, assuming these two gremlins let me cook in peace.”
“Bless you,” I muttered, kissing her cheek before heading down the hall.
As the door to the bathroom clicked shut behind me and my niece giggling echoed faintly from the living room, I exhaled. This house felt whole and steady.
I turned on the taps and watched steam curl up from the water. And for the first time all day, I let myself stop thinking—just for a moment.
The bath was glorious—hot, fragrant, and, most importantly, still attached to the floor. I sank deeper into the water, letting the heat soak into my bones, my head resting back against a rolled towel. The only light in the room came from the hallway, warm and dim, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I felt almost human again.