Page 82 of Shattered Dreams
He's already crying. Not trying to hide it or wipe the tears away like weakness. Just letting them fall. "I was stupid," he says, his voice breaking. "I convinced myself I was bored. Bored ofus, Ava; you know that’s not possible. So I fucked it up. Sabotaged it before you could leave me. Like my father did. Like I promised myself I'd never do."
I blink, my own tears spilling over now, hot against my cheeks. "I wanted to destroy you," I admit, the words poison I need to spit out. "After I found out. I wanted you to feel what I felt. I wanted you to hurt the way you hurt me."
"You did." He swallows hard, his hands clenched on the table. "Every fucking day since I lost you."
I don't know who moves first. He pays the bill, but then we're both on our feet, walking out of the restaurant like we're possessed, hands brushing but not quite touching, both of us trembling with something that feels bigger than either of us can contain.
In the parking lot, under the same stars that watched us fall in love ten years ago, he turns to me.
"I still dream about you," he says, his voice raw. "Every damn night."
I can't speak—I just reach for him.
The kiss is rough. Desperate. Teeth and tongues clashing, months of grief and longing pouring out in a single breath.
His hands are on my waist, my thighs, gripping like he's afraid I'll vanish if he loosens his hold.
"Fuck, Ava," he growls against my mouth. "You're it for me. You've always been it."
We barely make it into the backseat of his car before I'm straddling him, his hands under my dress, my nails dragging down his chest through his shirt.
“And this fuckingdress.”
I laugh against him as he kisses me again.
“Onmyfuckingwife.”
“Roman…” I moan as his fingers tug at his zipper, my body flooding with need and desire for him. He positions himself against me, our eyes locking before I sink onto his cock, taking every inch of my husband like I never thought I would again.
“Fuck, Ava…” He stares at me like I’m a mirage in the desert, and I’ve never felt so desired.
The sight of him drinking me in with his eyes, greedily, as if he’s memorizing this moment, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his hips thrusting to meet mine…
He fucks me like he's claiming land.
I ride him like I'm burning it down.
Every gasp, every thrust, every whispered I'm sorry and I still love you eases the gaping wound in our souls, both of us fucking like we’d just met.
“Please be mine,” he whispers as I lose control, throwing my head forward and feeling him tightening his grip on my waist. “Because I love you so fucking much.”
I can’t respond at first, and when I can, I choose not to. Instead, I kiss him, my lips slamming against his as I drag him to me.
Because honestly, I want him to be mine too.Only mine.
With his forehead pressed against mine, he whispers it again. "I'll never stop fighting for us."
And for the first time in a long time…
I think I might believe him.
30
AVA
The sunlight through the curtains is warm and soft, filtering through the blinds I forgot to close last night. Roman's arm is heavy across my waist, his chest rising and falling slowly behind me. His breath is warm against my shoulder, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the familiar weight of him.
Everything about him is what I want, what I’ve missed. His scent, his skin, his presence.
