STIGMA

At night.

A cool breeze gently rolled up the curtains on the second floor of the villa.

Tammy's scarred face hung with tears, and her tiny, naked body lay shivering in the strong man's arms. She was too shy to look up at him.

Today was her wedding night. Just now, she ended the transformation from a girl to a woman.

The man holding her in his arms at the moment was her husband Angus, a man could drive all women crazy.

She had loved him for fifteen years.

In the darkness, Angus stared at the little woman in his arms. His deep black eyes contained a coolness that was hard for others to guess.

He stroked her soft hair and murmured, "Tammy, I'm sorry I hurt you."

Although when they were having sex, she hadn't been crying out in pain, she was holding back her tears. She looked so aggrieved that it hurt him a little.

Tammy shook her head gently. Her face blushed.

Although he was gentle, the pain was inevitable because it was her first time.

However, she was happy enough that he didn't mind the scars on her face and that she was a poor little girl who had been living in exile for ten years.

There was a ding, and his phone rang.

Angus took the phone, looked at it, frowned, turned his head and said, "Tammy, I'm going out for a few minutes and I will come back soon. Wait for me."

He bowed his head and gently kissed on her forehead.

Angus switched on the light and got out of bed, tucking Tammy in and picking up a robe from the side and putting it on.

Tammy watched as he left the room.

Without his embrace, she was suddenly lost. She gripped the blanket restlessly at her chest. Her thin shoulders were out of the quilt, and they were covered with the marks of their love and affection.