My Wedding Gift: His Public Execution

Higgi

efinitely not mine. He gently scooped me into his arms and carried me to our bed, his movements practiced and tender. T

of my father' s smiling face turning cruel, of Derek' s promises shatter

eside me, one arm thrown protectively over my waist. His breathing

er where he' d left it. It was a foolish, impulsive act, born of a desperate need for confirmation of what I alre

was worse than I could have imagined. Explicit photos, crude fantasies, plans for their next tryst. He had been w

e that made the breat

really that b

tiful to look at, but you don't really want to touch

irst time we' d been together, he had been so patient, so reverent. He' d traced the lines of my body with

lie. A

ysical weight pressing down, making it impossible to breathe. He hadn't just betrayed me; he had desecrated e

ghtmares? The tech genius praised by magazines? Or the callou

loved for a decade was a phantom, an illus

must have woken him. Footsteps padded d

ldn't. I was drowning

cern. He saw the phone on the floor, then looked at my face. The color draine

began, taking a

hand, a feeble shield against the torrent of l

ted mask of contrition. He knelt, not before me, but to pick up his

and pleading. "She means nothing to me. It was a stupi

the victim. I just stared at him, my heart a dead, heavy th

end it. Right now. I'll never speak to her again. Please, Elai

and I flinched away as

ht a few pretty words and a sad expression could erase this. He had no idea what he had

room," I said, my voice devoid

uest room door behind me and slid to the floor, the silent sobs finally breaking free, shaking my entire body with their forc