The morning light shined through the curtains in thin, golden slants.I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of him beside me.
His breathing was steady.Deep.Almost peaceful.
As if he didn't know he was wrapped around a woman who was slowly, methodically planning to leave him in ruins.
I shifted slightly, testing the space between us.
His grip tightened instantly.
An unconscious reflex.
I froze, heart beating.
His arm slid across my waist, pinning me against him. His chest pressed flush against my back, his breath warm against the curve of my neck.
"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
I shut my eyes.Damn it.
"I just…" I whispered, "I need some water."
A low, rough sound rumbled from his throat — half a laugh, half a threat."You're not going anywhere."
I tried again, softer, coaxing."I'm thirsty."
He nuzzled into my hair, inhaling like he was breathing me in. Like I was something he was afraid to lose."Stay."
One word.So simple.So devastating.
Stay.Like it was a choice.Like I hadn't already decided a thousand times to leave him behind.
I twisted in his arms, meaning to put space between us. To breathe.But he caught my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to his.
His eyes burned into mine — dark, wild, desperate.
"You think I don't see it?" he whispered. "You're slipping away."
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
He shook his head slowly, the motion almost broken."I feel it every time you touch me like you're afraid to stay. Every time you kiss me like you're trying to forget."
He traced my bottom lip with his thumb, a shiver running through me.
"You can't hide it from me," he said, voice raw. "I know you."
I hated how much I wanted to believe that.Hated how the part of me that still loved him cling unto those words like a drowning woman to a sinking ship.
He leaned closer, his forehead resting against mine."You can lie to yourself all you want. Tell yourself you hate me. Tell yourself you don't need me."
His mouth brushed mine — a featherlight, agonizing touch.
"But you're mine," he whispered. "You've always been mine."
A broken sound clawed its way up my throat. I tried to shove him away, but he caught my wrists, pinning them gently but firmly against the bed.
"Stop fighting it," he growled. "Stop fighting me."
Tears swelled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.I had cried enough for him.Bled enough for him.
But his hands — God, his hands — were trailing fire up my arms, across my ribs, down my hips.
He kissed me then, hard and punishing, and I answered back with all the fury and longing and betrayal boiling inside me.Tearing at him with my teeth, dragging my nails across his back, drinking in the sound of him breaking against me.
If this was a war, then I would lose myself in it completely.
We collided with the ferocity of two people who didn't know how to love without destroying.
His body moved against mine with a desperation that bordered on violent.And I matched him.Pushing.Pulling.Tearing down every defense I had built brick by brick.
"Look at me," he voice hoarse, thrusting deeper, harder, as if he could drive the distance from me with sheer force."Don't hide from me."
I obeyed.Not because I wanted to.Because I needed to.
I stared into his eyes — so wild, so broken — and felt my soul crack wide open.
He kissed me again, but this time it was different.This time it was worship.
Like he was begging forgiveness without words.Like he was trying to pour every apology he could never speak into my mouth.
"I love you," he gasped against my skin. "God, I love you. I never stopped."
I whimpered beneath him, every part of me shattering under the weight of it.
I wanted to scream that it wasn't enough.That love wasn't enough to erase betrayal.That no amount of whispered promises could unmake the scars he had carved into me.
But the truth was...I wanted to believe him.
Even if it killed me.Even if it meant losing everything I had left.
When it was over, he collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms so tightly it felt like he was trying to fuse our bodies together.
I let him.Too weak to fight.Too wrecked to move.
He pressed soft kisses along my shoulder, my neck, my temple, whispering broken things against my skin.
"You're mine," he said again, quieter now."Mine."
I closed my eyes and let the lie wrap around me like a blanket.Warm.Suffocating.Deadly.
Because even now, tangled in his arms, I knew the truth:
He could never truly be mine.And I could never truly be his.
Not anymore.
We had ruined each other too completely.
And yet, when his fingers interlink with mine and he whispered my name like a vow,I didn't pull away.
I didn't run.
I stayed.
Because sometimes the greatest betrayals are the ones we commit against ourselves.And deep down, this is just not about revenge.it's something more.