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.

cry,” he coaxed in a low voice, his

her and the knowledge that it would be difficult for him to walk

she called him “Mark,”

and when she had referred to him as “Uncle Mark”

©

by his name, he felt the weight of their history

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her tenderly, their bodies seeking

were not of physical pain but of

he indulged himself in this tender

couldn’t help calling him ‘Uncle Mark’

to their dormant love and affection, their passion reignited like gasoline meeting

broke, Cecilia

found Mark’s handsome face magnified before her, lying beside her in

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