Time seemed to lose its meaning as they lay entangled, their clothes in disarray beneath the bed.

Tears glistened in Cecilia’s eyes as she felt a hint of sobriety mixed with a daze.

Her slender fingers gently caressed Mark’s handsome features, and she whispered hoarsely, “Mark, no one can bully me.

In her heart, he was the only one, from beginning to end!

She cried like a little girl, her heart torn between wanting him close and feeling wronged.

Mark gently brushed his slender fingers against her glamorous face, trying to comfort her.

“Don’t cry, Cecilia.

he coaxed in a low voice,

struggled with his feelings, torn between staying with her and the knowledge that it would be difficult

moment she called him “Mark,” everything

and when she had referred to

©

her call him by his name, he felt the weight of their history together—a history that involved a woman who

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her tenderly, their bodies seeking solace in

physical pain but of sorrow and

the cover of night, he indulged himself in

him ‘Uncle Mark’ later that he couldn’t suppress his lust at

their passion reignited like gasoline meeting a

dawn broke, Cecilia

face magnified before her, lying beside her in

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