Chapter 159: I’ve let go of the past.

Words : 1133 Updated : Sep 23rd, 2025

Chapter 159: I’ve let go of the past. Anne swallowed her unease and forced herself to sit beside him. "Denis came by unexpectedly," she explained. "He said he was looking for you. He brought the flowers for us... He even apologized and said he wouldn’t bother us anymore." She paused, watching for any reaction from him, but his expression remained unreadable. "I didn’t believe him at first," she added. "But he seemed sincere. Said he is serious about Tania now and wants to be a responsible father. Then I got the call from the hospital, and he offered to drive me there. He stayed for a while until he had to return to the office for some urgent matter." She laid the truth out as plainly as she could, hoping he’d see there was nothing for him to worry about. Augustine listened to her carefully, and when he noticed the absence of bitterness in her tone while speaking of Denis, a flicker of unease stirred within him. "Do you trust him now? Just because he apologized, have you forgiven him?" Anne met his gaze steadily. "No. I told him that forgetting what he did isn’t easy for me. There is no question about forgiving him. But I don’t hate him anymore either. I’ve let go of the past. Whether he apologizes or not, it doesn’t change anything for me." Only then did something inside Augustine relax. The tightness in his chest loosened, and the storm of doubts swirling in his mind began to settle. Without another word, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her close against him. He just held her like that silently, needing the confirmation that she was still his, that she hadn’t drifted toward someone else. Anne leaned into him, her arms wrapping around him warmly. She rested her head on his shoulder, a teasing smile appearing on her lips. "You are adorable when you get all possessive and jealous." Augustine looked down at her, lifting an eyebrow in mock offense. "You think this is funny? You don’t know how on edge I was when I returned to the office and saw your desk empty. And then this—" He glanced toward the bouquet on the table. "I heard you left with Denis. I was worried. Why didn’t you tell me about your father right away?" "Because I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting," she said softly. "I knew you’d be concerned, but it was important. I didn’t want to distract you." Her words melted away the last of his doubts. "Nothing is more important than you," he said, cupping her face. "If one deal is canceled, another deal will be signed. Loss and gain are a part of the business. But you...you are my love, my life. For you, I can abandon anything." Anne’s eyes turned watery as she heard his words. "So much love. I’m scared now. I won’t survive if you ever stop loving me." He pulled her gently closer, pressing his forehead to hers. "That will never happen," he murmured, kissing the center of her brow with reverence. "My love for you will never decrease—it’ll only grow, deeper and stronger with every breath I take." Their emotions thickened, charged with a sacred longing. He tilted her chin and captured her lips with his, soft at first, tasting her and savoring her. Her hands slid to his chest, feeling the thunder of his heartbeat under her fingertips. Their kiss deepened, slow and consuming, as if time had folded in on itself. His hands traced down her back, pulling her into the warmth of his embrace. "I’ll always choose you," he said softly, brushing a curl from her temple. There was fire in him, but he wielded it with restraint. He didn’t rush. Instead, he took his time undressing her, his fingers trailing like silk over her skin. Anne gasped as he explored her breasts, teasing and tweaking her nipples. He knew her body—knew what made her cry out, what made her cling to him like she’d drown without his touch. "You’re trembling," he whispered, his lips ghosting against her ear. Every brush of his fingers over her nipples sent ripples through her. Anne could only sigh at his teasing. A satisfied smile tugged at his mouth. "You drive me insane," he murmured against her neck, lips trailing lower, "and I intend to return the favor." He lifted her gently and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down, marveling at her naked form. Augustine knelt between her thighs, his hands caressing slowly, steadily, teasing her open with practiced ease. His mouth followed, gentle at first—tasting, savoring—until she arched with a moan, her hands clutching the sheets. "You are so beautiful," he murmured against her collarbone. His lips trailed down to her breastbone while his hand moved further south. As his fingers inched toward her core, she moaned in anticipation. Her inside was aching, throbbing to feel him. When he finally reached her core and parted her folds, a jolt ran through her. "So wet," he smirked. "Always ready for me." He started with a single finger, tracing her gently until she gasped at the sudden pressure and softness. He circled deliberately, his eyes never leaving her face, feeding on the way her breath hitched. Then he slipped a finger inside, slow and teasing, curling it in just the right way to make her back arch off the bed. A second joined, his thumb grazing her most sensitive spot in a lazy, torturous rhythm. "Don’t hold back," he whispered. "Let me hear you." Her lips parted in a moan, her body responding before her mind could catch up. His fingers moved with precision, building her tension slowly, then fast, then slow again. She rocked her head against the pillow, her thighs shaking as the heat inside her spiraled. When her release came, it was fierce—shuddering and sharp, her whole body tightening around his hand. He lowered his mouth, his tongue replacing his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes. He kissed and licked with purpose, drawing circles until she gasped, again and again, her hands tangling in his hair. "Augustine..." she cried out his name when it hit her again. He slowed only to start again, his fingers moved in and out more intensely this time. He lifted her head slightly to see her reaction. Her face contorted in a pleasure cry as the third wave overtook. It stole her breath, making her tremble more and more. He let her rest for a moment, watching her limp with pleasure, her eyes glazed with warmth and awe. But he was far from done. He started teasing her again—this time with a wicked smirk and a low, hungry growl. "You’re not done," he said. "Not yet."

Chapter 159: I’ve let go of the past.

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