Chapter 314: _ Making Up Or Love?
"I saw something."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I..." He looked away. "A few weeks ago. I saw something. You and..."
Me? And who? Who? Álvaro?
My stomach twisted. "What did you see?"
His head snapped toward me. "Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"Start making it worse. I’m still trying to figure out what it was, okay? I don’t need you jumping to conclusions."
What... What the? How on earth have I jumped to conclusions now?
I stiffened. "Jumping to conclusions? You stormed in here tonight asking if I was with another man. That’s not exactly... subtle."
"I know," he muttered. "I know. That was wrong. But I’ve been holding onto something and I don’t even know what to think yet. I need time to... to make sense of it."
I stared at him. "You saw something. And instead of telling me, you’ve been stewing in silence? Making me feel like I did something wrong?"
"I didn’t accuse you," he shot back.
"You didn’t have to, Axel. The way you’ve been treating me says enough."
He looked at me, jaw clenched. "Can you just give me time?"
"Time for what? To decide if I’m innocent?"
"No," he said quickly. "No, not that. Just—time to understand what I saw. To make sure I don’t throw accusations that I can’t take back."
There was a pause. A long one. The candles flickered again. A gust of wind howled against the window like the universe had something to say and was choking on it.
You know what? He wins again. Finally, I nodded.
"Okay."
He blinked, like he hadn’t expected me to agree.
"But Axel," I said, stepping closer. "While you figure things out... please don’t forget how we started. Don’t forget who we were. Don’t forget that we were friends first. That we loved each other like it was the only thing keeping us alive."
He looked at me like he was memorizing every word. I touched his chest—right over his heart and felt its rhythm stutter under my palm.
"I’m not perfect. And maybe I’ve made mistakes too. But I’ve never stopped trying. I’ve never stopped choosing you."
His breath hitched.
"Don’t shut me out," I whispered. "Please. Be cold if you must. But don’t lock the door and throw away the key."
He looked down at me, eyes glassy but guarded. "You still want us?"
"I always have."
There was a silence.
Then something broke but not loudly. It in fact did with quietness. Like the snapping of thread after too much strain.
He reached for me again, slower this time. Like he was asking. This time, I let him. Not because I was desperate. But because I wanted him to feel what I meant.
His mouth met mine, and hell, it was not like before, not rushed or angry. This kiss was searching. Apologetic. Filled with the weight of things unsaid.
His arms wrapped around me, holding me like I was something rare. Something that might vanish. I pressed closer, my hands sliding into his hair, tugging lightly. His breath fastened, and his lips moved lower, grazing my jaw, and my neck.
"I missed this," he whispered. "I missed you."
"Then come back," I whispered into his skin. "Come back to me, Axel."
He paused. "I’m trying."
Something in the way he said it broke me all over again. Not with violence but with softness and truth.
Axel had never begged or tried like this ever since our last Madrid trip. And yet, here he was — voice hoarse, fingers trembling slightly at my waist like he was afraid I might vanish if he held me too tightly.
I kissed him deeper.
This time with every piece of the grief that had sat between us for too long. My mouth opened for him, and he tasted like longing.
My husband... He was so warm, sweet, and painfully familiar. His hands slid down, strong palms tracing my spine, pulling me flush against his body.
God, he still fit me perfectly. Like puzzle pieces only we could understand.
His mouth left mine to kiss my throat. His lips slid slowly like he was remembering every inch of me from the beginning. My head tilted to the side without thinking as a soft "Ahh" escaped me.
His tongue flicked at the hollow just below my jaw, and I gasped softly again, my hands clenching the fabric of his shirt like I needed him to stay tethered to this moment.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured against my skin, breath hot. "Tell me before I lose myself in you again."
In me, my darling, is where you truly belong. Not in your anger or grief or heartache and assumptions.
"I don’t want you to stop," I breathed, pulling at his shirt. "Not ever, dear husband."
His hands slid under the hem of my blouse, fingertips brushing skin that hadn’t been touched in days. I arched into him with a quiet gasp. Heat built between us, slow and dizzying, like a storm gathering but refusing to break.
We stumbled backward, bumping into the edge of the bed. Axel caught me before I could fall, chuckling. It was a broken, breathless sound, but it was the perfect music to my ears.
He then kissed me again like he was drinking something he thought he’d lost forever.
He pulled my blouse off over my head and dropped it beside us. His eyes darkened, roaming over me, and for a second, he just looked. He didn’t have his hands on me nor did he rush.
He was just... looking. Like he hadn’t allowed himself to in a long time.
"You’re so beautiful," he rasped.
I swallowed, fingers reaching for the buttons on his shirt as I undid them slowly. "Then stop pretending you don’t want me."
He laughed under his breath. "That was never the problem."
It sure wasn’t. The walls could testify.
I pushed the shirt off his shoulders, eyes taking in the dips and planes of the body I knew too well. The one that used to make me feel safe. His chest rose and fell hard when I pressed a kiss on his cock. One. Then another.
His fingers tangled in my hair and he groaned, deep in his throat as I took Axel’s erection in my mouth and began to smear love across its thickness.
"I missed you," I whispered. "I missed us."