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Me: Still stalking me, huh?
Dion: Ha-ha.
Dion: Maybe…
I laugh out loud, startling a lady who has just stepped out of the coffee shop, and walk through the door.
I smile at my screen as I text Dion back.
Me: I like it…
Dion: I know you do, little liar.
My entire body shivers. I love when he calls me his little liar.
Dion: I love seeing your cheeks go pink.
I halt my steps and twist around. Is he here?
My phone buzzes in my hand, surprising me.
Dion: Don’t break your neck.
I scan the café for any sign of him, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Me: Where are you?
Dion: Come and find me, wife.
My skin tingles with excitement.
So much has changed in the past few months. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Dion and I got married six months after he saved me from marrying Andrew. The relief I experienced seeing Dion that day was something I’ll never forget.
I’m no longer chained to Andrew, no longer scared of his threats.
I knew it would be a struggle to rebuild what was shattered, but with Dion by my side, I can face anything.
After everything with the arranged marriage and all the chaos, I couldn’t handle the thought of having a big wedding. I wanted something simple, something just for us.
So, we decided to elope. It felt right, even if it’s unconventional, especially in our world.
We couldn’t wait any longer, and the thought of dragging out our union was unbearable.
Our lives are complex and often dangerous, but the love and loyalty we share make it all worthwhile. I’m happier than I’ve ever been and haven’t had to use drugs or drink alcohol in almost a year. I’m fucking proud of myself.
I put my phone in my purse, heart racing as I walk toward the bathroom, hoping he’ll be there. It’s empty.
I push one of the stalls open, revealing nothing but the usual sterile tiles. A sigh of frustration escapes me, and I turn to leave the bathroom. Suddenly, a hand grabs me from behind, covering my mouth. I squeal, the sound muffled.
For a brief, terrifying moment, I panic, struggling against my captor. But then, a familiar scent hits me, and my body relaxes. Dion pulls me back into one of the stalls, away from prying eyes, and whispers for me to be quiet.
“What if we get caught?” I hiss.
“I don’t fucking care,” Dion replies, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “This is worth the risk.” He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “I just want a little taste, baby.”
“But I’m?—”
