Chapter 196:
“Enough,” Brandon said softly, “Don’t cry anymore.”
The faint glow by the doorway cast shadows over Millie’s tears, each one pulling at Brandon’s chest.
She turned away, refusing to meet his eyes.
With a weary sigh, he bent down, his hands gentle as he cradled her face and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Up close, he caught every shimmering drop clinging to her lashes.
He closed the distance and pressed his lips softly to hers.
Salt from her tears mixed with the warmth of her mouth.
Her fists landed against him, weak and unconvincing.
Ignoring her resistance, Brandon tightened his grip, lifting her easily and carrying her through the hall into the bedroom.
White wine lingered on her skin; he didn’t give her a chance to speak, silencing her with another kiss.
He didn’t want words—only the closeness between them.
Inside the softly lit room, desire wove around them as he pinned her to the sheets, one hand roaming over every familiar curve.
He adored the feel of her, treasured every night spent tangled together, sweet whispers filling the darkness. Nothing compared to the way she trembled in his arms or the look in her eyes when she focused only on him.
Weight had melted off her frame, leaving her even more fragile than before. His hand traced her waist, startled by how much smaller it felt beneath his touch.
A whisper slipped from his lips as he drew her close. “Millie…” He pressed a kiss against her mouth.
“Millie.” Again, her name lingered in the hush between them as he found her lips, their breath mingling softly.
Brandon’s lips trailed lower, lingering at the small mole just above Millie’s heart. Her voice broke through the haze.
gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs․cóm is your escape
“Don’t,” she whispered.
He pretended not to hear.
“Will you really force me?” Millie’s hands pressed against his head, her tone pleading yet defiant.
He hesitated, desire warring with restraint, but his arms refused to let her go. “Our loss in Flesta was a tragedy, Millie,” he murmured, heat and longing sharpening his words. “We could try again… we could have another child.”
A bitter laugh, soaked in heartbreak, escaped her. “If that’s what you want, go to Vivian instead. Isn’t she the one you spend every waking moment with these days? Haven’t you already slept with her?”
Her voice broke, trembling with grief. “Brandon, don’t do this to me. It makes me sick.”
Sobs wracked her, each breath shaking her small frame with fresh waves of pain.
The words hovered on Brandon’s lips—he wanted to tell her nothing had ever happened with Vivian, that she was wrong about all of it. But Millie’s mind was made up, and anything he said now would only sound like excuses.
.
.
.