Audrey POV:-
After all the guests had left, I found myself helping Ethan clear up the remaining dishes and stray decorations. The house was finally quiet, but that strange gift still gnawed at my mind. I couldn't shake the unease it brought. Why would someone send something like that on this day—the day we celebrated our love? My fingers trembled slightly as I cleaned, and a cold shiver ran down my spine.
Curiosity led me to look up the meaning of such symbols—those blood-stained wedding photos, the cracked glass, and the dead crow perched atop. I discovered that they were often used as curses or omens of misfortune. A dread crept into my chest: does this mean someone wants us to break apart? But why? My limbs felt like they were made of ice, trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. No, this has to be a prank.
I've always believed in science and logic; I don't buy into superstition. Yet, a small voice inside whispered doubts—could there be some truth behind these ominous signs? Just a few days ago, I heard about a woman so distraught after being betrayed that she performed voodoo rituals on her partner, narrowly escaping tragedy herself. But Ethan and I—neither of us had ever betrayed the other. We were loyal and honest. So then, what was this message trying to tell me?
As I casually tossed disposable utensils into the trash, a sudden thought struck me sharply: Could Ethan have been unfaithful before I met him? Was there some secret past I didn't know? The idea made my stomach churn. No, I told myself—Ethan isn't like that. I've never met anyone so loyal, so genuine. Still, the doubt lingered, stubborn and unyielding. Maybehe didn't actually cause a heartbreak, but why now?
Lost in this whirl of thoughts, I barely noticed Ethan coming up behind me. His arms wrapped around my waist gently, pulling me into his warm embrace. His voice was soft but reassuring, like a soothing balm.
"Don't worry too much,"
He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.
"It's probably just a prank—someone jealous of our love. Just ignore it, sweetheart. No point in worrying over things you can't control."
His words were like a calming shade over my restless mind; I felt a strange sense of relief, lighter somehow. How was it that he could calm me so effortlessly? I wondered, feeling my tension ease just a little.
About an hour later, after we'd finished tidying up, we slipped into bed for a nap. Our bedroom and his study are connected, separated only by a temporary partition. The room was softly illuminated by the warm glow of the evening light filtering through the window. To the right was our bed, with a small table beside it—my novel resting on one side, crime magazines on Ethan's. The house isn't grand, just simple and cozy, but it's enough for us.
As I flipped through the pages of my book, lost in thought about the day's events, suddenly my gaze was pulled away—my book slipped from my hands and fluttered past me onto the bed. I looked up nervously and saw Ethan, standing there in loose lower. His broad shoulders and six-pack abs were tempting, but surprisingly, they didn't stir my desire. Instead, I felt a strange heaviness in my chest.
Ethan looked at me with those piercing green eyes and, with a gentle smile, turned off the bedside lamp.
"Honey, what are you thinking about?"
he asked softly. His voice was calm, yet carried a subtle sensual undertone that sent a prickling sensation down my spine.
"Forget about it. Tomorrow's not a day off. Relax. It's not the weekend yet—what's the point in worrying so much?"
I shook my head slightly, unable to voice my thoughts. Ethan stepped closer, his gaze tender yet playful.
"Let me tell you something,"
he said, sliding my nightgown from my shoulder down to my chest, his voice becoming even softer, more intimate. He gently brushed his fingers along my skin.
"If you're feeling like doing something tonight, just tell me. There's no need to hide behind pink. Don't you know it turned me on so hard that I can feel relief when your walls clenched around me?"
He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on my bare shoulder. "Tell me what you want, love. Should we spend tonight wrapped around each other or, better, inside each other? I do have some crazy ideas."
His words echoed softly, filled with affection, but I felt a strange disconnect—my mind was restless, unable to settle. I know it's only natural for us to indulge in each other on our special day, but strangely, I didn't wish to do that now.
For a moment, I hesitated, feeling the tension in his body—his arousal evident beneath his pajamas. I turned slightly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"But what about you?"
I asked softly.
"You need rest too, right?"
Gently, I ran my fingers through his dark hair, feeling his warmth.
"I've told you before,"
he murmured,
"That understanding and respecting each other's feelings is what matters most. Just sleep like this tonight. I promise, I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
His voice grew serious for a moment.
"Anyway, sex isn't enjoyable if one of us isn't in the mood," he added softly, a hint of sincerity in his tone.
I nodded quietly, feeling the weight of the day settling over me. Tomorrow would be a new day—normal, peaceful. That's what I hoped for.