It felt like everything was finally falling into place. Alan loved her, made the effort to commute to Mangalore to be with her, and was actively working on his anger and insecurities. She no longer wanted to hold back. She knew she belonged to him and saw him as her husband, whether they were legally married or not.

Regardless of the outcome of the pennukaanal, she couldn't imagine ever being separated from him.

She kissed him passionately, pouring all her emotions into it. Their tongues danced together, and she held onto his shirt tightly.

He slowly guided her to the bed, until her knees hit the edge. She sat down and he loomed over her.

She looked into those eyes, their breaths ragged with emotion and desire.

He lifted her legs up and shifted her to the center of the bed. He hovered over her kissing her gently over her cheeks. Soft lingering kisses. He nibbled on her lips and tugged at them.

"Mmmm..." moaned Fiza, electrified by his touch after everything they had been through together.

His gaze shifted downward from her face to her neck and her curves that rose up and down as she heaved, taking big anticipatory breaths.

He wanted her, all of her. But he loved her more than he desired her. She had always become emotional when they got intimate, and this time, he wanted to respect her boundaries and make sure that she was okay with proceeding.

"Do you want to keep going?" He asked her softly caressing her cheeks.

Fiza was overcome with emotion. Her Alan was finally asking her for her permission to proceed rather than forcing her or seducing her. She nodded and arched her head back.

He took the cue and kissed her neck.

"Alan," she moaned huskily. "Alan..."

He lifted the kurti up but had trouble getting it off  her.

"Zip" she said, reaching to the zip on the side of her kurti but Alan placed his hands on hers and pulled her zip down, his fingers grazing the side of her chest. Goose pumps erupted at the site of his touch.

Smiling at her, he put his hand in through the opening of her side zip and realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. He frowned at her confused.

"What is it, love?" She asked him, her voice almost a coo.

"No bra?" He asked, squeezing a bare bosom.

"Mmm," she moaned at his touch. "It's fitted with padding..." Her breath hitched as he did things to her with his fingers.

He kissed her stomach and Fiza took a deep breath in response. He was going lower down.

"Alan..." Fiza warned.

"You don't like that?" He asked her.

She shook her head.

He ran his fingers up and down her inner thigh and separated her legs. He untied the drawstrings that kept her pallazo pants up and slowly took them off.

Lost in his eyes, Fiza unbuttoned his shirt and he quickly removed it.

Placing himself between her legs, her asked her, "Are you still doing okay?"

She nodded.

He kissed her mouth again while his fingers slipped into her panties and explored her wetness.

"Alan!" Fiza moaned his name over and over.

"I'm going to go inside you, okay?" He asked her, softly kissing her forehead.

"Condom" she whispered.

"I don't have one." Alan said, ashamed that he hadn't brought it along. He hadn't imagined this happening.

"In my bag," said Fiza blushing.

Alan chuckled and put the condom on, making sure that he was gentle when he entered her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he inquired, gazing into her eyes.

She nodded.

"Words," he commanded.

"Yes," she replied, her voice breathless.

He started moving in her. It was painful, her body was still not used to this. Fiza clenched her teeth and held on to his arms.

Soon she started to experience the waves of pleasure and she loosened her grip on him.

Alan let out a grunt as he picked up pace.

Fiza moved her body in response till he came, emptying himself.

He kissed her forehead and headed to the restroom to clean up.

Her phone buzzed, and it was Faisal. She frowned.

"I feel like I lost a friend in my stupidity. I miss you, Fiza."

She smiled and replied, "I miss you, too." She set the phone aside and closed her eyes. She felt at peace, like everything was finally falling into place.

In a few minutes, Alan was back and he wrapped himself around her. Exactly where he belonged.

The next morning, they woke up to the harsh sunlight but stayed in each other's arms. Locked in each other's gazes, Alan drew circles around Fiza's face and neck. She still had her kurti on.

"Do you want to go again?" Alan asked her, climbing over her.

Her eyes widened as she blushed and shook her head.

Alan chuckled and kissed her cheek.

Fiza got up to use the restroom when her phone buzzed.

Alan instinctively looked at it, and the notification on her locked screen was a message from Faisal: "Sorry about your break up. Are you holding up okay?"

"You told me you blocked him," he said quietly.

Fiza looked at her phone and saw the message from Faisal.

Alan was consumed by his feelings of betrayal. "Did you run back to him the moment we broke up?"

He knew her passcode and typed it in.

Fiza reached over him, saying, "Give it back, Alan."

"No!" he replied, wondering what she was trying to hide from him.

He read the last message, "Miss you too," and noted the time it was sent ; right after their intimate moment. He couldn't believe it.

Fiza grabbed the phone from him, and he stood up quickly.

He held her wrist tightly and shook her arm, causing her to drop the phone. He picked it up.

"Stop it, Alan, it's irrelevant," she said, her voice filled with frustration.

"Apparently not! You tell him you miss him after we fucked. What? Were you wishing it was him?" He shouted.

"Alan!" Fiza cried in exasperation, moving towards him to hug him and help him calm down.

However, he shoved past her to try and create some space between them before he lost control again.

But in the process, his shoulder collided with hers, causing Fiza to fall sideways. She hit her rib on the nightstand and knocked the table lamp with her elbow.

The glass base of the lamp fell on her face and broke, tearing her skin and scattering all around her.

"Fiza!" Alan shouted in fear. The glass from the table lamp had cut her forehead, and she was bleeding. She lost consciousness for a few seconds.

He lifted her up, his heart racing with guilt and fear. Did he do this to her? It had happened so quickly.

Fiza was visited by a memory that seemed out of place. She couldn't determine if it was a dream, a hallucination, or perhaps a memory she had constructed from fragments of conversations with her father or things she had overheard. It left her wondering if it was a piece of her mother's past that had somehow become entwined with her own.

"Ronald, no!" she exclaimed as a man approached her near the staircase.

"Why is he calling you at our house?" he growled at her, holding a cordless phone.

"Is this baby even mine?" he asked, touching her protruding belly.

"Ron, how can you accuse me?" she began to say, but the man came closer to her. His eyes were red, and he reeked of alcohol. He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, making tears sting her eyes. "Please, let me go, you are hurting me."

She jerked her hand with all the force she could muster. At the same time, he let her go, and she fell backward on the stairs, her side hitting the railing before she rolled down, hitting her head.

Fiza stared at Alan as he approached her, fear in her eyes. "Please, please don't hurt me," she begged.

Alan looked at her, a mix of confusion and self-disgust on his face.

"I'm going to help you up," he reassured her, gently lifting her and laying her on the bed. Carefully, he removed the glass pieces from her forehead and hair. It was clear she needed stitches, and he couldn't help but feel responsible for the scar she would carry.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay?" he said, locking eyes with her. She nodded weakly, feeling as if she might pass out again.

"I'm calling your brother. Stay awake for me. I'm here with you," Ronald, reassured her urgently. Fiza nodded, her abdomen cramping, and she felt a fluid leak between her legs - her water had broken.

"Baby, Ron," she whispered weakly.

"You are more important," he said, kissing her forehead gently. She closed her eyes, trusting him.

She was in the Casualty ward now, with Alan by her side.

While the doctor examined her and Alan said, "She lost consciousness twice. The table lamp fell on her head, but she didn't have any direct impact otherwise."

"Your CT looks fine," Dr. Rajeev reassured her.
She recognized him. "But you need stitches."

"I'll do them," offered Alan, and Dr. Rajeev nodded. Alan didn't trust anyone else with her face. Whatever else he was, he was a great surgeon and he knew it.

Fiza recognized that she was in the hospital attached to their old college. She realized that Dr Rajeev had supervises her during her casualty rotation in as an Intern.

Alan kissed her lips gently. "I'm here."

She flinched as he injected her with lidocaine to numb her skin. He then used 5-0 plain gut sutures and expertly sutured her laceration to ensure the best cosmetic results. "It's going to be okay, Fiz," he reassured her.

Guilt consumed him. But no matter how he replayed the scene, he was confident that he hadn't tried to hurt her. He was guilty of suspecting her, but he remembered trying to remove himself from her proximity as he had sensed an impending loss of control.

She was being discharged under his care, and he sent a text to her father, letting him know about the delay.

"You can... you check my phone," she said in a low voice, looking at her phone in his hands.

Alan closed his eyes, regret washing over him. What had he done? Why had he not trusted her? Of course, she loved him.

"I don't need to," he mumbled. "I trust you."

"I want... I want you to," pleaded Fiza, "please..."

He nodded reluctantly and read her messages to Faisal. "I'm sorry..." he started.

She held his hand, her voice gentle. "I know... It's okay."

*********************************************
Authors note.

I would really like to hear your thoughts on this chapter.

Please vote and comment.

Thank you for reading thus far

💜Faiza