Miku's trembling hands reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing against his arm.
The warmth of his skin was enough to make her cry harder.
"Ace…" she whispered, voice breaking as tears began to fall freely.
She wanted to call his name again, to wake him, to tell him how much she missed him.
But the words wouldn't come.
They were trapped in her throat, tangled with everything she had done to make this moment possible.
Ross.
The memory struck her like lightning—the heat of his body, the sound of his voice, the way he had taken her until she couldn't even remember her own name.
She had screamed for him, begged for him, cried from both pain and pleasure.
And now, here she was, kneeling beside her husband, the echo of another man still lingering in her mind and body.
Guilt surged through her chest, sharp and cold. Her tears turned bitter.
How could she face Ace after what she had done? After what she had allowed?
