𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 🌑

chapter eighteen

"How was your date?" Chris asks as he leans against the doorframe. His tone is sarcastic, but his eyes dance with amusement. "Did you have fun with your new toy?"

"Fuck you." Shea snaps, trying to hide her smile. "He's not a toy." She climbs off the bed, feeling a rush of heat in her cheeks. "And I don't appreciate you talking about him like that."

"Who fucking cares?" He asks, shrugging. "It's not like you're dating him or anything."

"I fucking care! Let you have a girlfriend and I go around talking shit about her, you'd be writing paragraphs on instagram!" Shea hisses, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I don't need your approval, anyway. So, why don't you just butt the fuck out?"

"Bedause you're the mother of my son! You're supposed to be taking care of your child, not fucking around with some random guy!" Chris yells, his voice rising.

"I can do whatever I want! We're not together anymore, remember?" Shea shouts back, her chest tight with anger and hurt.

"You're so fucking dumb." Chris sighs, rubbing his face. "You're playing with fire, Shea." He shakes his head, turning away from her.

"Yeah, I am so fucking dumb, aren't I? Obviously I am, because if I wasn't, I wouldn't be standing here with you right now. I would've never given my literal innocence to you! But I did, because I'm so fucking stupid!" Shea screams. "I wish I could take it back!"

He turns back to face her, his expression softening. "You know you don't mean that."

"I do fucking mean that! You're too caught up on your fucking ex to care! And none of them want you! And Jasmine doesn't fucking count cause she's a fucking whore who fucked you and my brother at the same time." Shea spits out, tears streaming down her face. "So fuck you, Chris. Just fuck you."
He's taken aback by her words, his expression hardening again. "Says the girl who went back and fucked the man who beat the shit out of her?" he counters, anger clouding his features. "You're pathetic, Shea."
Shea narrows her eyes. "And I can say the exact same thing about one of your exes, huh? After YOU beat the shit out of her, right?" She says, poking the air between them. "But that's okay, because you're the victim here. Fuck you, Chris. You can take your judgment and shove it up your ass."
He steps closer to her, his face mere inches from hers. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" His voice is low and dangerous. "You're playing with fire, and one of these days, you're going to get burned."
"Are you fucking threatening me?" Shea demands, her heart racing. "You fucking piece of shit, if you ever lay a hand on me or my baby again, I swear to God, I will fucking kill you."
"Lay a hand on you? Again? Is that what you fucking tell people I did to you?" He sneers, his voice dripping with disgust. "Fuck you, Shea. You're pathetic, and you're going to end up just like your mom. A broken, sad little mess."
Shea slaps him hard across the face, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the contact. "You're a fucking asshole!" she shouts, tears streaming down her face. "I'm not my mom, and I'm not going to end up like her! And I'm not going to let you or anyone else treat me like shit!"
He clenches his jaw, rubbing his stinging cheek. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" he growls. "You're just as bad as she was. Maybe worse."
"Fucking do something about it, pussy." Shea spits. "Go find another woman to talk shit about me to. I'm done with this." She turns her back on him, walking away.
"Shea -- do not walk away from me!" he shouts after her, grabbing her arm.
"Let go of me!" she yells, twisting out of his grip. "You don't get to tell me what to do anymore!" She glares at him over her shoulder. "You don't get to touch me, you don't get to talk to me, you don't get to see me! I don't want anything to do with you! You don't fucking get to decide when I'm happy and when I'm not!"
He watches her walk away, feeling a stab of pain in his chest. "Fine," he mutters. "Have it your way." He turns around, walking away himself, his shoulders slumped.
He hears her sobbing as he walks down the hall, and for a moment, he wants to go back and comfort her.
He fights with himself for a few seconds, then finally turns back around, jogging to catch up with her. Instead of saying anything, he just wraps his arms around her.
She fights it at first, shoving him away, but eventually, her own exhaustion and overwhelming emotions win out, and she collapses into his embrace, her body shaking with silent sobs. She brokenly whispers, "I'm sorry."
He just holds her, his own heart aching as he strokes her hair. "It's okay, baby. It's okay." He lies, but at least it's something. "I'm sorry too."
He kisses her cheek ... then lower and kisses her lips. She responds, wrapping her arms around him, and they stand there for a moment, lost in the comfort of each other's arms. But they both know it's only temporary.
She doesn't kiss him back, but she doesn't pull away either. He can feel her hesitation. Maybe there's still hope. He locks the door behind them and leans her against it, his hands on either side of her head. "I'm sorry I said those things," he whispers. "I didn't mean them. I love you, Shea. I always will."
Her hands grip the sides of his jacket, her eyes searching his face. "Why do you always have to say those things?" she whispers, her voice raw from crying. "Why can't you just be nice to me?"
His heart breaks a little more. "I don't know," he says honestly. "I'm just tired of everyone thinking I'm the bad guy. I'm tired of feeling like I have to fight for you." He looks down, feeling a lump in his throat.
He kisses her lips again, tenderly this time, and she responds, melting into him.
He turns her around to face the door, pressing her against it as he reaches up her skirt, feeling the heat of her body through her panties, tugging at his desire. He kisses her neck, her shoulder, as his fingers find their way inside.
A lone tear falls from her eye as she arches into his touch, her body responding to his touch, needing him. They lose themselves in each other, finding solace in the only way they know how.
Before she knows it, she's naked from the waist down and his head is in between her legs, his tongue expertly lapping at her folds. Her back arches off the bed as she moans his name, her fingers tangling in his hair. She feels so close, so wanted, so loved in this moment that it almost brings her to tears again.
Her free hand grips the pillow under her head as she gasps out his name, feeling the familiar tightening in her core.
She feels the wave of pleasure coursing through her body, her muscles tensing, her eyes squeezing shut. "Oh fuck..."
His hands grips her thighs, holding her open to him as he laps at her, sucking and kissing until she's writhing beneath him.
He feels her body begin to shudder, the tightness in her core giving way to release, and with a growl, he pushes his tongue deeper, feeling her come undone on his tongue.
He continues to lap at her, relishing in the taste of her as she cries out his name over and over again. "Oh God, Chris..." she whimpers.
She comes, her body shuddering with the release, his name on her lips as she comes apart in his arms.
He swallows her sweet essence, his hands gripping her thighs, not wanting to let her go. He looks up at her, their eyes meeting, and feels a wave of possessiveness wash over him.
Her eyes flutter closed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tries to catch her breath. "I..." she starts, but can't find the words. "I need..." she trails off, reaching for him.
He stands, helping her to her feet. He pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs, before reaching down and unbuckling his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. He steps out of them and kicks them aside, standing before her completely naked. "Turn over," he demands, his voice husky with need. "I want to feel you around me."
Shea flips over on all fours, her bottom in the air, presenting herself to him. He can feel her wetness on her lower lips, beckoning him to her. With a growl, he positions himself at her entrance and thrusts inside her, feeling her tightness envelop him. "God, you feel so good," he groans, his hips beginning to move, the rhythm of their lovemaking growing faster.
Shea moans, nails digging into the sheets as she feels him fill her up. "Chris..." she whimpers, arching her back, wanting more. "Don't stop..." He pushes deeper, harder, and she meets his movements with equal force, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire.
She glances back at him over her shoulder, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she looks away, biting her lip.
He grips her hips tightly, digging deep inside her, feeling her muscles contract around him.
His thrusts become jerkier, more desperate as he fights to hold back, wanting to make this last for her. "Shea..." he groans, his body tensing.
He pulls her up so her back is against his chest, his arms wrapping around her neck, holding her close as he fucks her from behind. His hips buck wildly, driving himself deeper inside her, feeling her wet heat envelop him.
He keeps his eyes on hers as she tilts her head back, letting out a long, shuddering moan. Her nails dig into his chest, leaving marks as she holds on tight, her body tensing beneath his. "I'm close, baby," he rasps, his voice strained. "I'm close."
"Cum with me," she whispers, arching her back, urging him. "Please..."
He feels the wave of pleasure crash over him, his body tensing, his hips jerking violently as he empties himself into her. "Fuck..." he groans, still buried deep inside her.
She follows him over the edge, her body tensing and spasming around him, her moans filling the room as they both collapse onto the bed, spent.
He pulls her close, nestling her head against his chest, running his fingers through her damp hair. "You feel so good," he whispers, kissing the top of her head. "You make it impossible to think about anything else."
It feels like hours before they stir, their bodies still joined, his softening length still buried deep inside her. Shea feels a blush creep up her neck and across her cheeks as she realizes what they've just done.
He kisses her neck gently, his lips lingering on her skin. "I know we shouldn't have done this, but I don't regret a second of it." He looks down at her, his eyes searching hers. "I just wish I could do it with you, without the whole world watching."
Whatever that means, she thinks, but doesn't want to ask. Instead, she curls closer to him, pressing her body against his. "I know," she whispers. "Me too."
⏯️
Shea watches as Roman rolls onto his belly, giggling as he flails his little arms and legs. She reaches over, gently tickling his side, eliciting another squeal of laughter. "Oh, you're such a cutie!" she coos, gazing down at her son. Chris smiles from where he's sitting on the bed, looking at them both.
Roman squeals with delight as they continue to tickle him, his tiny body writhing in amusement. Chris's heart swells watching the two of them together, feeling a sense of pride and protectiveness well up inside him. In that moment, nothing else seems to matter.
He smiles at Shea, wanting to tell her how he really feels about her, but the words get caught in his throat. It's not the right time, he thinks. Not yet. They need to focus on raising Roman and making sure they can provide for him. But he knows that deep down, there's something more between them. Something that goes beyond friendship and duty.
Roman glances up at his dad, a look of pure adoration on his face. Chris returns the gaze, feeling a lump form in his throat as he realizes that this little boy is their world. For better or worse, they're in this together.
But as he remembered that there was another man who Shea was entertaining, he immediately grew angry again. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to compete with a memory like that?
And then he realized -- maybe all he needed to do was push her over the edge enough. Something that wouldn't make her be with any man except for him. Something that would make her want him like she's never wanted anyone before. And then, he would show her that they could have a life together, a real family, without all the trappings of fame and fortune. Just the two of them.
"Baby? Do you wanna take a trip to Las Vegas? Just us ... as friends? For old times sake." He smiles at her, his heart racing in anticipation of her answer. Maybe this was his chance to make things right.
"I dunno..." Shea trails off, biting her lip. "It's kind of crazy, you know? With everything going on..." She glances down at Roman, who is still squealing with delight from their tickle attack.
"Please, baby. Please." Chris can't hide the desperation in his voice. "I need this. I need you. I need us. Just for a little while. Please say yes." He reaches out, taking her hand in his, looking deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of hope.
As she looks into her eyes, something feels off about this. Something feels... wrong. She can't quite put her finger on it. But she trusts him enough to go to another place with him -- like Las Vegas.
"Okay... who's gonna watch Roman?" Shea asks, her heart beating a little faster at the thought of spending some quality time with Chris, away from the paparazzi and the constant reminders of their past.
"My mom, or your mom. Who cares. I just wanna ... get away with you." Chris looks at her, his eyes filled with love and longing, and for a moment, she forgets everything else. All that matters is him and their little boy. "Please, Shea. Let's go."
"Okay. Okay, but we're not fucking or anything. Okay?" Shea looks at him, her expression serious. "I mean, we can just hang out, like friends. Okay?"
"Okay." Chris nods, relieved. "Whatever you want, babe. Just you and me." He leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. "I love you, Shea. You know that."
"You can't kiss me like that anymore." She pulls away, smiling softly. "You can't kiss me like you're in love with me, because you're not." She looks down at her ring finger, where the birthstone ring still sits.
"I am, baby--really. I am." Chris insists, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly. "We'll figure this out, Shea. We will." He looks at her, his eyes pleading with her to believe him. "I promise."
Roman's burp startles them both before he begins giggling again. "I think he liked that milk." Shea laughs, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
🔒
While in Las Vegas, they stay at a luxurious hotel, away from the paparazzi. They spend their days walking along the Strip, hand in hand, enjoying each other's company. Roman is entertained by the sights and sounds of the city, and Shea and Chris find themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm.
"What age do you consider too young for a girl? Like -- that you would be with? I mean ... I was only 18 when we met." Shea glances over at Chris, biting her lip. "Do you think that's too young?"
"I mean, I dated you. So, nah. Well, it is. I wouldn't do that shit again." He smirks, squeezing her hand. "I don't know, baby. I just wanna make sure you're happy. That's all." They continue walking, lost in their thoughts.
"Why did you make an exception for me then?" She asks, genuinely curious. "Why me?"
"I had a feeling I should let you prove yourself." He smiles, looking into her eyes. "And you did. You've always been the one -- how about you? Would you date a man a decade older than you again?"
"Just you." Shea smiles back, squeezing his hand. "You know, I'm glad you met me. I'm glad we had Roman. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"Yeah?" He tilts his head, gazing at her. "You really mean that?" There's a hesitation in his voice, a tiny thread of hope. "Even with...?" He trails off, gesturing around them. "All this?"
"Yeah... thank you for giving me our baby." She looks at him, feeling a surge of love for him. "He's my best thing, Chris. And I don't know what I'd do without him." She takes a deep breath, trying to find the words to say what she really wants to. "I love you, you know. I always have."
He takes another step closer, his eyes searching hers. "I love you too, Shea. More than anything." He reaches up, cupping her face in his hands. "Always have."
"...Even if we weren't together?" she whispers, her heart beating fast. "Even if I was with someone else?"
He hesitates, because he knows he does not want to answer honestly. But he can't lie to her. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I'd be hurt, baby. I'd be really fucking hurt. But I'd... I'd want you to be happy."
"You're lying, aren't you?" she says, her voice barely audible. "You'd want me to be with you."
"Yeah..." he admits, his grip loosening on her face. "But I'd want you to be happy. And if that meant being with someone else, then... then I'd have to accept it." He shakes his head, hating the words as they come out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, baby. I don't mean to hurt you."
His hand grips her thigh, squeezing tightly, as if trying to hold onto her. She looks away, her eyes filling with tears. "I just want you to know that no matter what, I'll always be here for you. I'll always love you."
"We can be friends ..." He pecks her lips gently. "...if that's what you want." His heart breaks a little as he says the words, feeling the weight of their truth. "I'll always be there for Roman. And I'll always care about you. I'll just... I'll just love you from afar, okay?"
Shea smashes her lips against his, her tears falling freely. "No," she whispers, pulling away slightly. "I can't do that. I can't have you in my life, and then see you with someone else. It would kill me." She shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "We either need to figure this out, or we need to go our separate ways."
"Is that what you want? Or are you just horny?" He smirks, trying to make her laugh. "Because I could totally be your fuck buddy. You know, if you need it." He kisses her again, softly, tentatively. "Just don't ever marry anyone else. Okay?"
"I don't wanna be your fuck buddy. I wanna be your wife, who you fuck." She says, and then laughs through her tears, giving him an innocent smile.
He grins, his heart lighter. "Well, let's give it some time, then. See how we feel in a few months." His hand finds its way to her breast, cupping it through her shirt. "And in the meantime, we'll just have to see what happens." He kisses her again, deeper this time, their bodies pressed together. "Because I can't promise anything."
She teasingly grips his bulge before letting go and walking ahead of him. "I'm not making any promises either." She looks back over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But you never know what might happen."
He shakes his head, smiling as he follows her. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
Once back in their hotel suite, they spent time playing UNO and laughing their asses off. Shea's mom had to come in and remind them that it was getting late, but they kept going anyway. After all, it had been a long time since they had just been able to be together like this. And as much as it hurt, it felt good too.
She took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to make her move. "So," she began, her voice a little shaky. "Do you wanna come downstairs with me and ... have dinner? This hotel is pretty well known for their steak, and I've been craving one all day." Her eyes flickered to his lips, hoping for a positive response.
He smiled, his gaze locked on hers. "I'd love to come down with you, Shea. Some steak sounds amazing right now." He paused, leaning in closer as he brushed a stray hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
Shea giggled a bit, feeling her cheeks flush at his touch. "Alright then. Let's go get some food." She stood up, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. The anticipation of what might happen over dinner was building inside her, and she couldn't wait to see where the night would take them.
By the time it was 11:36 PM, Shea already had about 7 shots of whiskey in her system. She had never been much of a drinker, but tonight she was feeling bold and reckless. She couldn't help but wonder if Chris would notice her growing intoxication. Her voice was slurred slightly from all the alcohol she'd consumed.
Her mind was hazy as she made her way back to the hotel room, Chris's arm looped around her waist, guiding her through the crowd. She leaned heavily against him, her head spinning. She felt his strong, warm hand gently caress her lower back, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She hadn't expected him to be so touchy-feely, but she didn't mind it at all. In fact, it made her feel even more connected to him.
When they finally made it back to the room, Shea practically collapsed onto the bed, her limbs feeling like jelly. She felt Chris's weight press down on the mattress beside her, and she could hear the sound of his breathing as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of music drifting up from the streets below.
She reached out, running her fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it beneath her touch. "You're so soft," she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. "I like it." He didn't respond, but she could feel his body tense slightly beneath her touch. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "I really like it," she breathed, her voice barely audible.
He still didn't respond, but she could feel his heart racing beneath her hand. A thrill ran through her, and she knew she had to take things further. She moved her hand down, gently cupping his crotch through his pants, feeling him grow instantly hard. "Yayyyy..." she giggled drunkenly. "You like that, don't you?"
He let out a shuddering breath, his body tensing further beneath her touch. "Shea..." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. She grinned, leaning in to kiss him, their lips meeting in a messy, drunken embrace.
Her hand moved up and down on his hardness, and she could feel him grow even bigger in her grasp. "God, you feel so good," she moaned into his mouth. "I've missed this."
He groaned, his hands finding their way under her shirt, touching her bare skin.
But she's so drunk and fucked up, that she can't even keep what she's doing, going. Her movements are sloppy and clumsy. She pulls back, breathing heavily, her gaze unfocused. "I'm so sloppy tonight..." she mumbles, her words slurring even more. "Sorry."
Her free hand moved to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his jacket. She moved to unzip it, but her fingers were clumsy and uncoordinated from the alcohol. "Ugh," she groaned, "I can't do this." She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded with desire. "Help me undress you."
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat up, turning to face her. His gaze met hers, and she could see the desire in his eyes mirroring her own. "Okay," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her. Their lips met in a tentative, gentle kiss that quickly deepened as they explored each other's mouths.
She desperately kissed him back, her hands fumbling with his buttons and zippers.
She broke the kiss to breathe, her lips already swollen from their passionate exchange.
His hand wrapped around her neck, gently guiding her back to him as he helped her undress him, removing his shirt. She gasped at the sight of his chest, his muscles flexing beneath her touch. "Fuck, Shea..." he groaned, closing his eyes as she continued to touch him. "You're driving me crazy."
"You're the one with a hand on my throat." She giggled, her words slurred. "But I like it." She leaned in, kissing his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin.
He lifted her top over her head, revealing her bra to him. His eyes widened, and he leaned in closer, kissing her neck. "I've missed these," he murmured before moving his lips to her breast, sucking hard on her nipple, thankful that she doesn't have a bra on under her shirt. "God, you're so fucking hot."
Shea can't even focus on what he's saying, she's so lost in the pleasure of his touch. She arches her back, moaning loudly as he sucks on her nipple. "Baby..." she slurs, her hand fumbling with his belt.
He turned his head slightly, his lips finding hers in the darkness. Their kiss was soft and gentle at first, but quickly deepened as they explored each other's mouths. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies, seeking out and finding new places to touch, to caress. The alcohol made everything seem heightened, more intense, and she could feel herself responding to him in ways she never had before.
As their passionate embrace continued, Shea could feel Chris's erection pressing against her leg. Despite her seemingly being into "it" at this point, she felt a twinge of guilt. "Wait," she gasped, pulling back slightly. "I'm not... I mean, we don't have to... I'm just kinda drunk, you know?" Her words were slurred and incoherent, but she was hoping he would understand. "Right?"
Either he didn't hear her, or he ignored her, because Chris didn't say anything in response. Instead, he moved his hand down between their bodies, finding her panties already wet with arousal.
"Babe ... wait." She tried to protest again, but he covered her mouth with his free hand, silencing her. "You're so beautiful when you're drunk," he whispered, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her panties, finding her already wet and ready. "And you're so wet for me." He groaned, his fingers moving faster, parting her folds, searching for her clit. "You want this, don't you?"
She feels so weak in his arms, from the alcohol and the desire coursing through her veins. But her hips make no indication of protest nor hesitation as he touches her, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing circles around it.
She tries to speak but he presses his hand firmly down against her mouth, silencing her, and she feels a shiver of pleasure run through her at the domination.
"For once, you're gonna shut the fuck up." His voice is gruff, commanding. "And you're gonna let me do whatever I want. Understood?" His fingers never stop moving, never cease their friction against her. "Say it."
She can't say anything as her eyes widen with surprise and pleasure. She nods, but her head lolls to the side, making the movement barely noticeable. "Understood," she breathes out, her hips grinding against his hand.
But before she could say anything else, Chris rolled her onto her back, straddling her hips as he leaned in to kiss her again.
Her hands press against his chest, as a way to tell him to stop but he pushes them away and holds them above her head with one hand.
His hands roughly ripped her panties, tossing it aside. Her hands pressed against his chest in a way to tell him to "stop" again, but once again, he either ignored it or was too caught up in the moment to notice.
"Wait..." she slurs, "I mean... I mean..." but her words are cut off as he thrusts his hips forward, pushing his bare, hard length against her wet folds. She gasps in pain and pleasure, her body arching upwards as he slowly begins to slide in and out of her.
He holds her legs apart, biting his lip as he watches himself sink deeper and deeper inside of her. "Fuck..." he groans, his hips moving faster and faster. "You're so fucking tight..."
Shea let out a gasp, feeling both pain and pleasure course through her as he began to move, his hips pounding into hers in a rhythm that was both aggressive and familiar.
She couldn't even move -- her body limp, heavy, as he took her like he owned her. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of being violated, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal mixed in with the discomfort. As he continued to thrust into her, she couldn't help but wonder if this was really what she wanted, or if she had just been too drunk to know any better.
She tries to close her legs, to push him away, but he's too strong for her. His weight is pressing down on her, holding her immobile as he takes her over and over again.
Her head spins, her body aches, but somehow, the pain only seems to add to the pleasure. She bites down on her lip, trying to keep herself from crying out as he hits her sweet spot over and over again, his movements growing rougher with each thrust.
Her hands gripped the sheet beneath her, digging her nails into the fabric as she tried to hold on. The pain was intense, but it only seemed to make her want it more. She closed her eyes, trying to block out everything else as she focused on the sensation of his body moving against hers, the weight of his breath on her neck.
"Ah!" she cried out, her body tensing as she reached up, her hand slapping his face roughly. But then she instantly felt bad and kissed the spot where her hand had hit him, apologizing between breaths. "I'm sorry... I don't... I don't..." she managed to say, her words slurred and incoherent.
"Shhh..." Chris murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. He leaned in to kiss her, his lips gentle and tender as they moved against hers. He continued to thrust into her, slowly and methodically, his hips rocking against hers in a rhythm that felt almost soothing.
She whimpered, feeling all over the place. She wanted to tell him to stop, to slow down, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud. She just lay there, her body responding to his movements, her heart racing in her chest.
She manages to flip over and he slides out of her, watching as she squirms her way up to the top of the bed, away from him. Her hands cover her face as she tries to catch her breath, to block out the feelings of shame and guilt that are starting to creep in. Her body is sore and overwhelmed, but she can't help but feel like she's been violated.
He hovers over her, his gaze intense as he looks down at her. "You can take it." He growls, his voice thick with desire. "I know you can take it." And with that, he thrusts back into her, his hips moving in a powerful rhythm that has her crying out in pleasure and pain.
Chris groaned, his hips moving faster as he neared his climax. His thrusts became deeper, harder, and she could feel the tension building in his body. She arched her back, meeting his movements with her own, their skin slapping together in a rhythm that was both primal and erotic.
Was he even drunk? Maybe that's why he didn't understand her earlier. He was probably too drunk to realize what he was doing. Maybe... maybe she should try to stop this. But she didn't want to hurt him, and she didn't want him to be angry. She didn't know what to do. All she could do was lie there and take it, hoping that it would be over soon.
He hovered above her, leaning down to nip at her neck as he continued to thrust, his hips moving with a steady, powerful rhythm. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, could feel the weight of his body pressing down on hers. She tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. He was too strong, too determined.
"... I can't ..." she managed to gasp between breaths. "Please..." that word didn't help at all. He didn't seem to hear her. Or maybe he just didn't care. It was all a blur, a haze of pain and pleasure and confusion. She wished she could just close her eyes and forget about everything, but she couldn't. She had to live through this.
She let out a strained moan as he pushed deeper inside her, feeling him hit a certain spot that made her entire body tremble.
"It's so ... big..." she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. "It hurts..." She didn't know why she was saying this. She shouldn't have. But it felt like she needed to explain herself somehow.
"You like it," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "You like how it feels." He thrust harder, his hips moving faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he neared his climax. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his eyes burning into hers.
"Too deep ..." she whimpered, arching her back as he pushed deeper still.
"Nothing is ever too deep for you," he hissed, his words sending a shiver down her spine. "You were made for this." And with that, he plunged into her again, his hips slamming against hers.
His grip on her tightened, his breath hot against her ear. "That's it," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Let go, baby."
He had his arms wrapped around her tightly as he thrusted into her, his hips pounding against hers in a relentless rhythm. She could feel the tension building within him, could feel his body tensing as he neared climax. She closed her eyes, trying to brace herself for what was coming, feeling a shudder run through her as she realized that she was still so very drunk.
He was so deep inside her, and she was so very helpless. She couldn't believe this was happening. But she could feel it, deep inside her. He was close, so close.
Through blurry vision, she watched his face contort as he let out a hoarse cry, his body tense as he finally releases himself inside her. She felt the warmth of his seed spill into her, filling her up completely. For a moment, she thought he was done, but then he continued to move, his hips still pounding against hers as he emptied himself completely.
All she remembers is clenching down around him -- hard as she could -- and feeling him explode inside her. His body tensed, and she could feel him pulsing, filling her up with his seed. She closed her eyes, feeling exhausted, feeling used as she came, her body shuddering with the force of her release.
Finally, finally, it was over.
"You have the most amazing pussy," he panted, collapsing on top of her. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. All she knew was that she wanted him off of her. "God, that was incredible." He rolled to the side, giving her a satiated smile. "I'm going to remember that for a long time." She stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to crawl out of her own skin.
All she remembered is feeling him press his body down against hers as her head lolled to the side. His breath was hot against her neck, and she could feel his erection begin to soften inside her. She tried to catch her breath, to calm her racing heart, but it was no use. She was still lying there, his weight pressing down on her, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear, of guilt.
It's normal, isn't it? She has sex with him all the time, doesn't she? It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't feel like this. But it did. It felt wrong. Wrong and dirty and shameful. She wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear, wanted to forget that any of this had ever happened.
Next thing she knew, he was pulling her off the bed and onto her knees, both of his hands gripping her by the hair on either side of her face. He pushed his hips up to her mouth, his erection poking her chin -- but she turned her head, which was quickly halted when he forced it back, holding it in place with his hand.
"Mmm mmmm." she hummed, trying to shake her head. "I can't..."
"Shhh." he whispered. "Just take it." And with that, he thrust forward, forcing his cock into her mouth. She gagged, her eyes watering as she tried to pull back, but he held her tightly in place, forcing her to take every inch of him.
She gagged again, feeling like she was going to throw up, but he seemed to like it, his hips thrusting harder, faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked her face. She tried to pull away again, but he only held her tighter, his grip like a vise around her head.
Her hazy eyes met his and he threw his head back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he came, filling her mouth with his seed. She couldn't believe it was happening, couldn't believe how completely powerless she felt in that moment. But she knew it was over when he finally let her go, his cock slipping from her mouth and falling to the side, spent.
He moaned softly, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Good girl." he whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. "That's a good girl."
She coughed, the taste of his cum still in her mouth, and felt a shiver run down her spine. She wanted nothing more than to be done with this, to forget it ever happened, but she knew that wasn't going to be easy. The memory of his touch, of his weight on her, would linger for far longer than she would have liked.
She gagged, disgusted as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. "Can I go now?" she managed to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Please?"
His half lidded eyes met hers, and for a moment she thought he looked almost regretful. But then he shrugged, seeming to brush off his earlier brutality. "Sure, babe. Go ahead." He gestured to the door and she stumbled over to it, her legs still shaking from the ordeal.
But before she could even reach the door, she stumbled and almost fell, making him grab onto her and lay her back down on the bed.
"No ... more ... no more ..." she whined, tears streaming down her face as she tried to push him away.
"Shhhhh. No more." He smoothed his hand over her hair, his expression softening.
A tear slipped from her eye as she fell unconscious, her body giving in to the exhaustion and the pain and the confusion. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know what had just happened, and she didn't know how to make it all go away. All she could do was close her eyes and let the darkness take her.
He watched her for a moment, her features softening in sleep, before finally turning away. The events of the night swirled around in his mind, and for the first time, he began to feel a twinge of guilt. But he pushed it aside, telling himself that it was just a game, that she knew what she was getting into.
He laid beside her, drifting to sleep, her scent filling his nose and her warmth enveloping him. He knew that tomorrow would be another day, and that they'd both have to play their parts. But for now, in this moment, he was content to pretend that they were just two people, tangled in each other's arms, finding solace in the darkness.
Some point in the middle of the night, he had her on all fours, his hand on her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he roughly pounded into her. It was like he couldn't control himself, like he had to hurt her, make her his. He felt her body tense and then relax, and with each thrust, he felt a little more in control, a little more like he was regaining some semblance of who he used to be.
She just laid there, taking it as her body jerked with each impact, tears streaming down her face. He was so rough, so brutal, and she couldn't understand why he hated her so much. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she was so weak, so tired from the night's events. All she could do was endure.
"Do you like that, babe?" he growled, his breath hot against her neck. "Do you like how it feels when I fuck you?" He didn't wait for an answer, just kept thrusting, harder and faster. She whimpered, her body feeling like it was being torn apart, but still, she didn't fight him. She just let him take her, let him have his way.

She glanced up at him over her shoulder, fording a moan as she nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes," she managed to choke out. "Yes, I like it."
He kissed her roughly, his teeth grazing her lips as he thrust deeper still. "Good girl," he muttered, his hips meeting hers in a brutal rhythm. "Good girl."

"Can you just ..." she panted, "can you just let me rest for a little bit? Please?" She whimpered, arching her back slightly, desperate for a moment's respite. But he only grunted, his hips moving faster, harder, pushing her body to its limits.

"I'm gonna cum," he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "Gonna fill you up with my seed." And with that, he came, his hips bucking wildly as he emptied himself inside her. She felt his hot sticky cum spill out of her, coating her insides, making her ache.

He pressed himself deep inside her, holding himself there for a moment before finally pulling out, collapsing on top of her. She lay there, his sweaty weight on top of her, her body throbbing in pain and exhaustion. "Chris?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their labored breathing.

But he didn't respond and instead turned over onto his belly, his back to her. She reached out, tracing a finger down the small of his back, trying to get some sort of reaction. He didn't move, didn't say anything.

She felt a stab of fear in her chest, wondering if she'd done something wrong. If he was angry with her now.
"Are you done now?" she asked softly.

"Mmm." he hummed, his voice still distant. "For now."
Shea let out a breath, laying down, her arm over him. What had she done wrong? Why was he being so cold? He'd been so rough, so brutal. She'd never seen this side of him before. They'd always been so loving, so caring. It was like he'd become a different person.

And all she can think about as she lies there, staring up at the ceiling, is the way he looked at her when he was inside her, his eyes glazed over, lost in the pleasure of it all. It's a strange mix of emotions that swirl through her, and she doesn't know how to sort them out.

A sense of lost devotion, perhaps? She'd given herself so fully to him, and now it felt like it was all for nothing. He didn't even seem to care anymore. But then there's the flicker of hope, the tiny voice in the back of her head that whispers that maybe, just maybe, he'll know that what he just did is wrong.

That he'll say sorry and everything will go back to the way it used to be. She doesn't want to be angry with him. She just wants him back. Wants the man she fell in love with. She reaches over, tracing his spine with her fingers, waiting for him to speak, to say something that will make everything alright again.

🌌

The dull ache in her head made it hard for her to focus, but she tried to remember what had happened last night. The blood smeared on her inner thighs and the pain between her legs told her enough. She winced as she sat up, her head spinning. The room was dark, and for a moment she didn't recognize it. Then she remembered - it was his hotel room.

As she sat up, she winced again, feeling the familiar ache of being intimate with him. She leaned over and threw up into the toilet, the motion bringing with it the bitter taste of alcohol and regret. Tears streamed down her face as she wiped her mouth, struggling to catch her breath. She couldn't believe she had let this happen again.

Did she even want any of that? It didn't feel like it. It felt like she had been violated, used for his pleasure. But she couldn't deny the part of her that felt guilty, that wondered if this was really what she wanted, or if she had just been too drunk to know any better.

She cried with her face down in the toilet, the cold porcelain against her hot, stinging skin. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to go back to her room, didn't want to face him again. But she couldn't just leave. She was stuck, trapped in this nightmare of her own making.

She glanced back at the room and saw him still asleep, one arm flung over his eyes. She wondered if he even remembered what had happened. Probably not.

She pulled herself up and dragged herself to the shower, making sure the water was hot before stepping inside. She stood under the stream, letting it wash over her as she tried to wash away the memory of last night. But she knew it would take more than just soap and water to erase it from her mind.

She washed away the blood and the semen, feeling cleaner, but still just as dirty. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, wincing as she put on the same clothes she had worn last night. They were stained, ruined, but she didn't have anything else to wear. She didn't have anything else.

"Are you leaving?" His raspy voice startled her, and she turned to see him sitting up in bed, looking at her.

Shea forced a laugh, trying to sound confident. "I'm not going anywhere. Just ... downstairs, for breakfast. Do you want anything?" She turned, pretending to search for her phone, needing to put some distance between them. She didn't want to be near him, didn't want to see him. But she didn't know what else to do.

"No, I'm good. You go ahead," he said, his voice noncommittal. "I'll join you in a bit."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and walked out of the room, forcing herself not to look back.

He stood there, watching her leave.

Shea speed walked to the elevator, her heels clicking against the floor. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All she could do was get away from him. She forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to calm down.

As she sat in the cafeteria, picking at her food, she glanced up and saw him enter the room. He walked over to her, his expression unreadable. But he smiled, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "Hey," he said, taking a seat across from her. "I hope you're feeling better."

"Y-yeah." She forced a weak smile. "Thanks." She didn't know what to say to him. She didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to be near him. But she felt like she had to.

"Look," he began, reaching out to take her hand. "I know I wasn't gentle with you last night. But I was drunk, and I was...lost. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. Okay?" His grip on her hand tightened, and she felt trapped.

He didn't want her to get the wrong idea and think he raped her. He just wanted to make it seem like everything was normal, like it was all just a misunderstanding. But she knew better. She pulled her hand away, feeling nauseated.

"I ... should probably go home. You know? Busy and all ... and I don't wanna get in trouble--

"Shea." He interrupted, using her nickname. "Don't be like that. We can work this out. Just give me a chance." His voice was soft, almost pleading. She wanted to believe him.

"Please ..." He leaned in closer, his eyes boring into hers. He reached out again, this time taking her hand in his. His words swirled around her, making it hard to think clearly.

"... What happened last night--" She began, but he cut her off, shaking his head. "Forget about that. It doesn't matter."

"Did I ... you were drunk too right?" She asked, feeling a sudden surge of hope. Maybe he didn't remember? Maybe it hadn't been as bad as she thought? "Maybe we were both just too dr--"

"Yes." He nodded, his expression solemn. "That's true. We were both drunk."

"So you didn't-- you didn't do it on purpose?" She looked away, her heart racing.

"No ... if I had known you didn't want to, I never would have--" His voice trailed off, and he looked away, rubbing his forehead. "Look, Shea. I'm sorry. I really am. I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything you want." His eyes met hers again, pleading for understanding.

In all reality, he just wanted to make sure she wouldn't go running off and telling the media. He needed her to stay quiet, to keep their secret. But he couldn't let her know that. He had to keep up the charade, make her believe that he truly cared about her.

"I should still get home. Okay?" She asked, not looking at him.

"You're not going back to LA without me." He insisted, his grip on her hand tightening again. "I won't let you." His eyes bored into hers, his expression hardening. "You're staying here. With me."

"Then I'll just get my own room." She said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. "I don't want to cause any more problems. You should just let me go." Her gaze darted around the room, seeking an escape.

"You'll text me?" He said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "When you get there safe?"

"... Yeah." She nodded, reluctantly. "I'll text you." She stood up, quickly, and walked away from the table, not looking back. He watched her go, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. He knew he'd made a mistake, but he had no idea how to fix it.

Shea paid for her own room, locked the door behind her, and collapsed onto her bed. She didn't know what to do.

She felt the urge to throw up yet again, but forced herself to lie still. Her head was spinning, her stomach churning. She couldn't think straight. All she could do was stare up at the ceiling and wonder how her life had gotten so out of control.

Before she knew it, she was crying. Great, wracking sobs that shook her body and made it hard to breathe. She curled into a ball, her fists pressed against her eyes, trying to block out the pain. But it didn't go away. It only got worse.

She told herself that she wanted it. That she'd begged for it. But deep down, she knew the truth. She hadn't wanted it. Not like that.

Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the feeling of him inside her, heard his grunts of pleasure as he took what she'd thought was her consent. And every time, it only made her feel more violated, more dirty.

The sound of his belt unbucking made her jolt upright, her heart racing. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight. She should call someone, shouldn't she? But who could she possibly tell? Her parents were out of the question. They'd never understand. Her friends were probably all passed out anyway. And her agent... she shuddered at the thought of having to explain this to him.

She was afraid to tell Maddy or Kat or BB, out of fear that one of them would say something and this would be all over the media. She couldn't risk that. Not now. She didn't want the world to know what had happened. She just wanted it to go away.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe she should just stay quiet and hope that it would all blow over. But how could she live with herself if she didn't say anything? How could she look at herself in the mirror and not see the girl who let someone hurt her like that?

'made it to my room safe 🩷' she texted him despite herself, her fingers trembling over the keyboard. 'I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?' She hit send before she could change her mind, then curled up on her bed, waiting for sleep to come.

She heard her phone buzz a moment later, and her heart skipped a beat. But when she looked at the screen, it was just a message from him. 'I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I swear.'

She ignored him, rolling onto her side, her back to the door. Maybe if she just pretended like it never happened, he'd get the message. But she knew he wouldn't. He'd only keep trying to make her forgive him, keep trying to make her understand. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she couldn't do that. She couldn't just forget what had happened. Not like this.

Somehow, she allowed herself to be pulled back into his hotel room the next day. It was like a car crash, and she couldn't look away.

He just wanted to make sure she wouldn't tell anyone -- he knew he could get into the most serious trouble for this. And he was sorry, so sorry. He never meant for it to go that far. He just wanted to have fun. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it, right? She did, didn't she? 

"You came, didn't you?" he asked, his voice cracking. "You felt good, didn't you?"

Shea wanted to break down in tears again, but she couldn't. As she thought about it, she did cum. But that didn't change anything. It didn't make her feel any better about what had happened. She was still violated. Still used. Wasnt she? "I..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Did you cum or not?" he demanded, his voice harsher than she'd ever heard it. "Tell me the truth."

She could only nod, her throat too tight to speak. It felt like there was a knife in her chest, twisting and turning with every breath she took. Admitting that she orgasmed only made it hurt more.

"Okay then. There's your answer. You liked it, baby." He leaned in, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Just because I came?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't believe she was even having this conversation. "It doesn't mean that I wanted it."

Hearing her say it that way triggered him. He did not want to ever admit that he would ever take advantage of a woman -- especially her. It's out of his character -- below his morals -- to do something like that. He was raised better than that. So, in a fit of anger, he punched the wall next to her.

"Stop it. Stop with this." He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "We had sex, Shea. You were moaning my name. You were moving with me. You're telling me you didn't enjoy it?" He stepped away from her, his eyes narrowed. "Or are you just trying to make me feel worse?"

"I... you fucked me, and my body reacted." She looked down, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "It doesn't mean I wanted it." She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. "I told you to stop..."

"No you didn't." He growled, shaking his head. "You just closed your eyes and laid there. You didn't say anything. You didn't move. I thought you were enjoying it." He looked at her, his expression pained.

"You forced your fucking dick in my mouth." She choked out the words, anger and hurt making her voice harsh. "How was I supposed to enjoy that or speak? When you had your hands over my fucking mouth?"

"STOP! I DID NOT RAPE YOU!" He shouted, taking a step closer to her. "We had consensual sex. You moaned my name, you came, and you... you liked it." His voice broke on the last word, and he closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

She hadnt expected him to shout at her like that. It made her back up, her hands going to her mouth. "I-I didn't..." she stammered, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't like it. I didn't want it. I was bleeding! And then you came in me! Like a fucking idiot!" She couldn't believe she was saying all these things. She'd never been so angry or hurt in her life.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you gonna tell everyone?"

"Should I?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Should I tell everyone how you forced yourself on me? How you took what wasn't yours?" She looked at him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "Would you like that? Would you like for everyone to know what kind of person you really are?"

"Stop." He whispered, shaking his head. "Just... stop." He sat down on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do." He looked up at her, his eyes red from tears. "I'm so sorry, Shea. I'm so sorry."

"I asked you to stop and all you could say to me was how tight I was," she spat, her voice shaking. "But you didn't stop, did you? No, you just kept going." Her voice broke, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. "You just kept taking what didn't belong to you."

"I didn't rape you, Shea." He said softly, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry if it felt that way, but I swear to you, I would never hurt you like that. I love you too much." He looked at her, his expression pleading. "Please believe me."

"I was drunk. Out of my mind! You weren't! And you know that! I know you know that!" She cried, her hands shaking as she wiped at her face. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I didn't do anything to you." He said, his voice choked with emotion. "Shea, you cannot tell anyone." He paused, looking at her. "You can't." He warned. "If you do, I'll lose everything." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "And so will you."

"How?" she demanded, her voice raw with pain.

"You know what people will think of you." He said, his voice barely audible. "They'll think you're a slut. That you're the kind of girl who leads guys on just to get what she wants. That you're the kind of girl who deserves it." He looked down at his hands, his knuckles white from clenching them so tightly. "And they'll say the same things about me. They'll think I'm a monster. A predator. And no one will believe us when we say the truth."

"You mean -- people will believe me over you because of who you are?" Shea asked, her voice shaking. "Or, because of your fame, your money? They'll believe you over me?" Her eyes welled up with fresh tears, and she couldn't help but feel like she was drowning in them. "That's not fair."

"Life is not fair, Shea." He replied softly. "And neither are people. If you tell anyone, you'll ruin your life just as much as you'll ruin mine. You have to understand that." He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "We have kids. I have kids. Together, we have Roman." He paused, meeting her gaze. "We need to protect them." He reached out a shaking hand, trying to touch her, but she flinched away.

"Don't..." she whispered, shaking her head. "Please." Her voice cracked, and she had to take a deep breath to steady it. "What do I do?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears again. "I can't just ignore this, Chris. I can't just pretend it never happened."

"You know what this means? You need to just ... leave all that other stuff behind and ... stick with me." What he's saying doesn't even make any sense to him, but he's desperate. "We'll find a way to get through this." He looks at her pleadingly. "We have to."

"Was this all like -- some twisted elaborate plan to get me back?" Shea asked, her voice wavering. "I don't get it."

"No. Why would I do all that just to get you back? I wouldn't hurt you." He insists, his voice shaking. "I love you. I always have." He reaches out for her again, his hand trembling.

"Then why can't you just let me be happy?" Shea demanded, her voice raw with pain. "Why do you have to ruin everything? I thought we were done."

"Do you want to be done? Actually done? Or are you just saying that because you're still angry at me and bitter as fuck?" He retorts, his voice tight with anger and pain. "Because I swear to God, if you think I'm going to let you walk away from me again, you're fucking crazy."

Shea stares at him before rolling her eyes and turning away from him. "You're--" She begins, but he cuts her off.

"I'm what?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

"You're ... so unbearable sometimes. You're so hard to--" Shea stops, trying to steady her breath. "I don't know what I'm saying." She turns back to him, her eyes filling with tears again. "I just need some time, okay?"

"Shea, I've given you seven months." He says, his voice raw with emotion. "I've given you more than most men would have, more than I usually would, honestly. What are you even so mad about?" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "What do you need me to do?"

"What am I mad about? I dunno, maybe the fact that you cheated on me, lied to me. Is that reason enough for me to be mad at you?" she says, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "And what do I need you to do? I don't know, maybe give me some fucking space? Let me breathe? Let me figure out how to be happy without you?" Her voice cracks, and she wipes away another tear. "I don't know." 

"I don't want you to be happy without me." Chris pleads. "I want you to be happy with me." He reaches out to touch her face, but she pulls away again. "I can't lose you again, Shea. I can't."

"I lost you. Twice! To my best friend. And then to some dumbass fucking ex girlfriend of yours! And then three times, if you count the fact that you lied to me about some baby being yours. How's that going for you anyway?" Shea spits the words out, her anger finally starting to outweigh her hurt.

He winces at her words, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. "I didn't lie about the baby. I didn't know--" He tries to defend himself, but she cuts him off.

"You did." She says, her voice firm. "You just kept lying to me. So don't you dare tell me you didn't lie to me." Her breath hitches, and she takes a shaky breath, trying to regain control.

"Shea--" He begins, reaching out for her again. "I never wanted to hurt you. I swear."

He grabs onto her wrist, his grip tightening. "Please, Shea."

"... Please what? What do you want?" she snaps, yanking her wrist out of his grip. "Do you want me to forget about everything? Do you want me to pretend that I didn't find out that you were a liar and a cheater? Do you want me to just forgive and forget?" Her voice breaks, and she takes a shaky breath, trying to calm herself.

"I just want you to be with me in this moment. Look at where you are. Forget about everything else that's ever happened between us. I need you to look at me, and not see any of the things I did to you or said to you. I don't want you to see Chris Brown, the famous fucking asshole that everyone thinks they know. I just want you to see me, right now. The guy who loves you more than anything in this world. The guy who would do anything for you." His voice cracks, and tears begin to stream down his face. "Can you do that for me? Can you just look at me like that, right now? Just for a moment?"

Shea blinks away more tears, still looking away from him. She hesitates for a moment, before finally turning back to meet his eyes. She doesn't say anything, but she allows herself a small, trembling smile.

She takes a moment to do what he says, and for the first time in a long time -- maybe even ever -- she can see him. Really see him. Not the Chris Brown that the world knows, but the Chris that she's always loved. The Chris who has always been there for her, through everything. The Chris who has never stopped loving her, even when she doubted it or didn't deserve it or acted like a total asshole.

But with that, she sees his pain. The hurt in his eyes is almost too much to bear, and she feels a sharp pang in her chest.

And she can feel it. It's strange -- like a living breathing thing. It's as if his pain has become her own, and she doesn't know how she feels about that. But she does know that she can't leave him like this. Not again.

As she stares at him, she feels the urge to cry for him, and she finds herself thinking 'what has this man gone through to be so broken?' His pain is etched into his face, making him look like a shell of the man she once knew. It's as if someone has taken a knife and carved out his insides, leaving nothing but raw nerves and exposed vulnerability behind. And it's killing her to see him like this.

"I see you." She whispers, her voice barely audible over the music. "I'm here." She reaches out, tentatively, and touches his cheek. Her fingers are cool against his warm skin, but it's almost as if she can feel the heat emanating from him. But it's not enough, and she finds herself hugging him tightly.

She begins to cry into his shoulder, her body shaking with the force of her emotion. She feels so much guilt and shame for the things she's said and done, but she also feels something else. Something more. Something that tells her that she needs to be with him. Not just because of their history or their connection, but because she loves him. And she knows that, no matter what, she can't lose him again.

And perhaps the most painful thing of all, is that she knows he feels the same way.

He can feel everything, just as much as she can. The weight of her tears on his shoulder, the tremors in her body as she clings to him. He can feel the love that she has for him, just as clearly as he can feel the guilt and shame. And it's agonizing, because he knows that it should be him comforting her, not the other way around.

But he's not strong enough right now. He can't be. So he holds her tight, burying his face in her hair, and allows himself to cry. To feel. To just be with her, if only for this moment.

Because he knows that everything will change soon. That the world will come crashing back in, and they'll have to face the consequences of their actions. But for now, in this small, quiet space, they have each other. And that's enough.

Her tears are not for herself - but for him. For all he's been through, for all the pain he's caused, and for all the pain he's felt. She weeps for him, as if she can take it all away. She sobs, her body shaking, and yet she feels a strange sense of peace. A calm that she hasn't known in a long time.

And when she finally pulls away, she looks up at him, and sees something in his eyes that she hasn't seen in a while. Not since before it all fell apart. A spark. A fire. Hope.

She cups his face in her hands and leans forward, pressing her lips to his. It's a soft, gentle kiss at first, but as he responds, it grows deeper, more passionate. She feels the tension begin to ease from his body, and she knows that he's feeling it too. The connection between them, the love that they share, is still there. It never went away.

And maybe, just maybe, they can find a way back to each other.

He lifts her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, their kisses becoming more urgent. He walks them over to the bed, feeling the weight of her body pressed against his.

She's warm and soft, and he can feel the beating of her heart against his chest. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in her, to forget about everything else except for this moment.

As they fall onto the bed, their clothes are quickly discarded, and they are left bare and exposed. Their bodies move together in a dance of desire, a dance that has been practiced for years. He feels her hands on his skin, her nails scratching lightly, and he moans, arching into her touch. She feels his weight pressing her down into the mattress, his hardness pressing against her, and she gasps, her hips moving in response.

They are a perfect fit, and they know it. They know that they were meant to be together, and nothing - not even their own mistakes or the world outside this room - can change that.

They lose themselves in each other, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that is as old as time itself. And in this moment, they find peace. They find each other again.

He fits perfectly inside her, filling her up, making her ache for more. She wraps her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she whimpers, his arms on either side of her lend her support, allowing her to move with him. They are a single being, united in their passion and their need for one another.

He gives her no room without him, making sure every inch of him is felt within her. She digs her nails into his back, urging him on, her hips meeting his movements. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, a primal sound that mirrors the depth of their connection.

Her breaths come out in ragged gasps, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He feels her tighten around him, her muscles clenching in a way that sends a wave of pleasure through him. He groans, his own release following close on her heels. His body shudders and he sees stars as their union reaches its peak.

This white hot moment between them lasts for what feels like an eternity, their bodies finally beginning to relax back into the bed. Their breaths come out in shaky gasps, their chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. She feels a weight settle over her, pressing her down into the mattress.

He's still inside her, but now it's gentle and comforting. She doesn't want him to move, doesn't want this moment to end.

She wraps her arms around him, still feeling his heartbeat against her chest, the warmth of his skin. She tries to memorize every sensation, every inch of him.

This moment feels too fragile to let go of, like holding a breath in for too long. But she knows that soon, reality will intrude again, and they'll have to face the world together.

The way she holds him, makes him feel safe in a way that he hasn't felt in years. He knows that this moment is fleeting, that reality will intrude again soon, but for now, he's going to savor it. He brushes a strand of hair away from her face, tenderly kisses her forehead.

Shea closes her eyes, content for the moment, feeling his hand brush her hair away. The softness of his touch sends a wave of contentment through her. She takes a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent and the comfort of his presence.

He makes her look at him, and she opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. In this moment, she knows that she can trust him, that they can face whatever comes together. Their connection feels unbreakable, as if they're made of the same starstuff.

She forgets about everything else they've faced together, forgets the world outside this room. All she can focus on is him, the way he looks at her like he's seen every part of her soul. It's both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. She reaches up, touches his cheek, tugging on his beard a bit.

He leans in, pressing his lips to hers, the kiss gentle and sweet. She responds, opening her mouth to him, letting him explore her mouth with his tongue. Their kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, as if they're trying to hold onto this moment, to keep it from slipping away.

He begins moving his hips again, pinning her to the bed, their bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, a primal sound that mirrors the depth of their connection.

Neither of them speak or really make any sound, but they can both feel the pleasure at their fingertips, the way their bodies respond to each other. She wraps her legs around his waist, arching her back, as he thrusts deeper, harder. The bed creaks beneath them, the headboard hitting the wall with every impact.

There she is -- receptive and open, trusting him with her body, her heart. It's a gift he's not sure he deserves, but he won't waste it. He kisses her, his lips soft and tender against hers, as he continues to move, feeling the wet heat of her surrounding him. He's lost in this, in her, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, he whispers something to her -- something that makes her heart drop -- but it's nearly impossible for her to say no to him, not when he sounds like this. "Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice raspy and raw, his eyes pleading. "Will you give me the chance to make this right?"

Marry him? As in... marry him for real? The thought makes her heart race, her stomach flip-flop. She hasn't been able to think of anything else but him since she first met him, but is it fair to marry him so soon after finding out about the deception? They've known each other for only two years -- is that even enough time to know if this is real, if they could really make it work?

And did THE Chris Brown just ask her to marry him? Well, if he's going to ask her to marry him while they're having sex, she supposes there's no better time to do it.

But he senses the confusion and the hesitation in her eyes, and he knows he has to convince her. He pulls out, his erection still hard, and rolls off her, propping himself up on an elbow. He looks into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. "I know it's a lot to ask, Shea. I know we haven't known each other for very long -- in terms of the usual amount of time married couples have known each other. But I can't imagine my life without you in it. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to make this right, but I also, for the very first time in my life, feel right about asking you to marry me. And it only makes sense. I mean, we have a baby together. We have all this chemistry, and we understand each other in a way that ... not many people have understood me. You know ME. Not the person I have created for the public, but me. The real me, beneath all that fame and glamour. And I want to spend the rest of my life with that person, because if I have ever gotten a clear message from God, it's that I cannot mess up the one chance I have at having something ... a person so real, so perfect. I will do it the right way. I will take you wherever you want in the world and I will buy you the perfect ring and I will do everything I can to make sure that you never doubt my love for you. But I am asking you right now -- will you marry me?" He finishes with a pleading, desperate look in his eyes.

Shea just stares at him, and her heart is in turmoil. His words wash over her, and they feel so right, so real. She can't deny the connection they share, the way they understand each other on a level she's never experienced with anyone else. And she knows he's sincere, that he's not just saying this to placate her or to make her feel better. He means it, and she can see it in his eyes.

"You? Get married? Sounds like a dream, honestly." She manages to smile, her heart still pounding in her chest. "But you know what? I think I could see myself doing that. Marrying you, that is."

He smiles. "Is that a yes?" He leans in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "I promise I will make it up to you. I will give you the world, Shea. I will give you everything you could ever want and need." His hands caress her cheeks, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I will make you happy. I swear."

At 20 years old, she's about to become his wife? Shea tries to wrap her mind around the idea. But as she lies there, feeling his warmth and his desire for her, it's hard to deny the possibility. Maybe this could work. Maybe they could really make it something special, despite everything. And maybe, just maybe, she can find a way to make it all work in her favor. She can't help but wonder what kind of life they'd have together, if they could just put all of this behind them.

"Okay. Yeah ..." She whispers, her heart fluttering in her chest.

He feels like he's been given the world in that moment. The weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, it all comes crashing down on him as she whispers those two simple words back to him. He can feel the truth in them, the hope, the desire. It's like a light shining through the darkness, guiding them towards something better, something brighter.

"Really?" He asks, his voice trembling with emotion. He needs to make sure he's not dreaming this. "You really mean that?" He kisses her again, harder this time, as if trying to seal the deal. "I love you, Shea. I've always loved you."

"I've loved you since before you even knew who I was -- so in all retrospect, yes. You really do mean that?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart feels like it's about to burst from her chest. She can't believe this is happening. "I love you too. So much."

He snickers and hugs her tightly, his lips brushing against her ear. "You know what that means, don't you? It means we have a lot of work to do. We have to make this work, Shea. No matter what it takes." His hands wander down her back, over her ass, and pull her closer. "I'm not letting you go this time."

🧿

"Being pregnant was kind of amazing, right? What was that you said about wanting more kids?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his wine. He looks at her expectantly, a twinkle in his eye.

"You're the one who said that, not me." Shea giggles.

"Nah, you most definitely said the same thing." He insists, his hand sliding over to hers. They share a look, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. The thought of having another baby, of growing their family, doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore.

"I'll think about it." She finally says, her heart racing.

He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know you want to. You can't resist me, can you? I'm irresistible." He leans in, kissing her neck. "Besides, think of how beautiful it would be if we had a girl this time. Just imagine the possibilities."

"She better look like me." Shea says, a small smile playing on her lips. "And I mean, exactly like me."

"You know that's not gonna happen." He laughs, kissing her cheek. "She'll have my eyes, my lips. Definitely my nose." He teases, nudging her playfully. "But who knows? Stranger things have happened."

"I swear -- if we have another clone of you, I will go bazerk." She says, laughing. "I mean, I'd love another kid, but I need some variety!" She pauses, thinking about what he'd said earlier. "But a little bit of you...that would be nice."

"You have a whole lot of me already." He says, glancing at her. "And I wouldn't want it any other way. So, if we have another one...well, I guess you'll just have to get used to the idea of living in a house full of me." He laughs.

"I will actually start sobbing." Shea insists, laughing a little.

He snickers, leaning in to kiss her again. His hands slide down her sides, over her hips, and back up again, pulling her closer. "You know you could never get enough of this." He says, grinning as he gestures between them.

"That's you." Shea says, gazing up at him.

He smirks. "Have you told your little boyfriend that you're engaged now?" He asks, tilting his head. "I hope he's not too upset about it." His thumb traces circles on her palm, making her heart skip a beat.

"You don't care about his feelings." She says, her tone a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"You're right. I don't. But when are you gonna tell him?" He asks, arching an eyebrow. "Or do you want me to?" His hand slips down to her stomach, gently rubbing circles around her navel.

"No ... I'll tell him soon. I promise." Shea says, her gaze drifting out the window.

While in the car, they rap and sing along to the music, laughing as they try to imitate the artist's dance moves in the rearview mirror. Chris pulls up to the airport, and Shea is confused.

"Where are we going?" she asks, looking out the window.

"Paris." He grins. He's been planning this for weeks, coordinating with her best friend to make sure it's a surprise.

"Paris?" Shea squeals with delight. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for her. She leans over and gives him a long, passionate kiss.

The flight to Paris in his private jet is luxurious, with gourmet meals and plenty of room to stretch out.

They land at the airport, where a driver is waiting to take them to their hotel.

Shea has never been to Paris before, and the city is even more breathtaking than she imagined. The driver takes them through the city, pointing out famous landmarks and giving them a tour. They finally arrive at their hotel, a lavish suite overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

Once in their room, Shea takes in the opulent surroundings: a king-sized bed with the softest sheets, a marble bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, and a balcony where they can sit and watch the city lights dance across the Seine.

"Do you like it?" Chris asks, watching her closely. She nods, her eyes shining.

"I love it." She says, wrapping her arms around him. He picks her up bridal-style and carries her to the bed, laughing as she squeals in surprise.

He begins to pull down her dress, revealing her black lace lingerie, before pressing his lips to hers. Their tongues dance together, and Shea feels her body respond to his touch. Chris slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing his chest covered in tattoos, and Shea can't help but trace her fingers over them. She feels herself becoming aroused as they make out on the bed, and she eagerly helps him out of his pants.

He kisses down her chest, down her stomach, and then lower still, until he is kissing her inner thigh. Shea gasps, arching her back, as he slowly eats her out, his tongue expertly finding her most sensitive spots.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer, and soon she feels herself building to a powerful climax.

"Mmmm fuck..." she moans, her body shuddering with pleasure. Chris looks up at her, his eyes dark and hungry. She looks down at him, biting her lip as her eyes flutter closed.

His tongue swirls around her clit, teasing it until she thinks she might lose her mind, and then he finally pushes inside, thrusting in time with her hips. She cries out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she feels herself falling apart in his mouth.

As her body shudders with pleasure, she whispers Chris's name, her voice shaking. And her juices flood his mouth, making him groan in pleasure.

He kisses up her body, taking her lips in a passionate kiss, his weight pinning her to the bed. He kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and then lower, sucking on her nipple through her lacy bra. She arches her back, moaning in pleasure as he teases her sensitive peaks.

She pushes down her bra for him, eager for his touch, and he smiles, kissing her nipple before rolling her onto her stomach. His fingers trail down her spine, and then lower still, until he finds the hem of her lace thong. With practiced fingers, he slides it down her legs, freeing her from her final piece of clothing.

She flips over onto all fours, giving him a view of her naked body, her back arched and her breasts pushing out. He runs his hands up and down her sides, cupping her hips before spreading her legs wide. With a growl, he presses forward, sliding himself into her tight, warm heat. She gasps, her head thrown back as he begins to move, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he loses control.

He takes her from behind, pounding into her with a desperation that matches her own need, his hands gripping her hips as he drives himself deeper. She can feel every inch of him inside her, and she moans in pleasure, her body moving in time with his. He kisses the back of her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck, Shea... you feel so good..." he whispers, his words tumbling out in a breathless rush. She gasps, her body tightening around him.

"Uhnnnh... Chris... I'm... I'm gonna..." she moans, her orgasm building, building, building...

Her muscles are squeezing him so tight, and he groans, thrusting hard one last time before he comes, his body tensing as he releases his seed deep inside her.

But he keeps going, keeps thrusting, even as she comes apart beneath him, her body shaking with pleasure. She feels her orgasm wash over her, and she screams out his name, her body shuddering with ecstasy.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feel of him inside her, everything... it's too much, and she clings to him, her nails digging into his back as she tries to hold on to this moment for as long as she can.

He spanks her gently, his hand stinging against her overheated skin. "Come back to me, baby," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Come back to me."

She knows what he means, and she begins to meet his thrusts, moving in time with him, her body already beginning to ache with the need to be taken by him again.

He stops, his hands running over her ass as he lets her fuck herself on his hardness. "That's it," he growls, "show me how much you want me." His hands slide up her back and around, cupping her breasts. "God, I love these tits."

Shea whimpers, arching her back as he pinches her nipples, her body moving faster against his. "Please, Chris... I need..."

He groans, thrusting deeper, harder, faster. His hips pound into her, and she can feel the desperation building in him, feel the way his body trembles with the effort of holding back. "I need you too, baby," he rasps, his breath hot against her ear. "Just let go..."

His hand fists her hair, pulling it back, and she gasps as he presses deeper, harder, faster, his hips meeting hers in a frantic rhythm. The pleasure is building inside her, a tight, aching need that threatens to overwhelm her. "Chris..." she whimpers, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm as she comes apart beneath him.

Her juices coat them both, her muscles clenching tightly around him, and he groans, "Fuck, Shea..." he whispers, kissing her neck, his heart racing.

He sits on the bed as she sits on his lap in a reversed position, her hands pressing into the bed as she leans forward and begins to move in earnest, her hips circling his as she grinds against him. He can feel the wet heat of her body, the tightness of her muscles, and the way she moans with every thrust, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

He pulls her back, his hands caressing her belly and sliding up to cup her breasts, squeezing them gently as he watches her. "That's it, baby," he whispers, his eyes never leaving her face. "Let me see you."

He jiggles her tits as he kisses her, their tongues tangling, and she moans, her body arching into his. "I love you, Chris," she whispers, her voice breathless with desire. "So much."

"Love you too, baby girl. As much as I love how you feel wrapped around me like this... fuck me like you mean it." He helps her, his hands gripping her hips as he thrusts deep, their skin slapping together in a rhythm that grows faster and faster. "Come for me, Shea. Show me how much you want this."

Her moans turn into screams, her nails digging into his arms as she comes, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. He follows close behind, his hips bucking wildly as he releases himself into her, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, their breaths mixing in the air.

Her hand pulls on his beard as they lie together, still joined, her heart racing. "I'm so glad I met you," she whispers, her eyes locked on his. "I never thought... I mean, you're my favorite person in the world. You're my favorite man." Shea nuzzles his neck, feeling the thud of his heart beneath her ear. "I'm so lucky."

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head. "I know, baby. I feel the same way." He sighs contentedly, his eyes closed. "I can't wait to see where life takes us."

They spend the rest of the night exploring the city, eating at fancy restaurant, and then taking long walks along the Seine.

Eventually, he leads her to a boardwalk overlooking the river, the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkling in the distance. He pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her as they watch the boats drift by. "So," he says, his voice low and husky. "What do you think?"

Shea looks up at him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "I think... I think it's perfect." She leans into him, pressing her lips to his. "I think I'm in love with you, Chris Brown."

He smiles, caressing her face. "I think I found the one, Shea." He kisses her again, deeply, passionately, their love for each other radiating off them in waves. "Close your eyes." He whispers, helping her to obey.

Shea closes her eyes, feeling his warm breath against her ear. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice breathless with anticipation.

She can feel him moving around.

"Doing it the right way." His voice is low and husky, his hands moving expertly as he guides her through the process.

"Open your eyes." When she opens her eyes, she sees a yacht moored nearby, its white sails billowing gently in the breeze. A bottle of champagne and two flutes sit on a small table, surrounded by red roses. "Come on." He takes her hand, leading her down to the boat. "I've been planning this for weeks." He helps her up onto the deck, his eyes never leaving her face.

She changes into a comfortable bikini, the sun warm on her skin as they sail along the Seine, drinking champagne and laughing. Chris takes her hand, leading her to the front of the boat where they lie down, staring up at the stars. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Shea. I want to see the world with you, to make you happy, to be your everything."

There's chefs on the boat, and they prepare a feast for them under the stars. They eat and drink, and dance, and kiss. It's the most perfect day she could ever imagine.

When it's 2 in the morning, and they're listening to the water lap against the hull of the boat, he whispers, "Will you marry me, Shea?" He takes out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning diamond engagement ring. "Will you be my wife? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

Shea smiles, playfully rolling her eyes as he asks her this question once again.

Tears stream down her face as she nods, unable to form words. "Oh my gosh!" she cries, throwing her arms around him. "Yes!" she cries. "Yes, of course I will!" She throws herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Oh my god, Chris, I love you so much!"

He laughs, kissing her tears away. "I love you too, Shea. I love you more than anything."

"Fuck me please." Shea whispers, grinding her hips against him. She wants him inside her again, wants to feel his weight on top of her. He groans, pulling her close, kissing her deeply.

He lifts her up and leads her to the bedroom, their clothes forgotten on the floor. He pushes her down onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing a line of hot, wet kisses down her neck, across her collarbone. She arches her back, her fingers tangled in his hair as he undoes his pants, freeing his erection.

"I can't wait to be your wife." She whispers, as he positions himself at her entrance. He pushes inside, filling her completely, groaning at the tight, wet heat that surrounds him. She wraps her legs around his waist, urging him on, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels so perfect, so right.

"And I can't wait to be your husband, Shea. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, making love to you like this, every night, forever." He kisses her passionately, his movements growing faster, deeper, more urgent. "I love you, Shea."

🩵

Shea stares at the polaroid photos of her and Cassie, thinking back to the time where the two were still friends. They'd spent so much time together, laughed together, cried together. But then Cassie had started dating Chris, and everything had changed. She could see it in the photos, the way Cassie would look at her with anger and jealousy. She knew that Cassie had never forgiven her for being with Chris, for "stealing" him away, even if he was Shea's first.

And this photo was taken only two weeks before Shea found out the truth about Cassie and Chris, that they'd been lying to her for months.

The second photo ... it was a photo of the three of them at a party -- Chris' birthday party to be exact. Cassie's arm draped possessively over Chris' shoulder, a smug smile plastered on her face. She wished she could go back in time and change everything, erase that moment, the lies, the betrayal. But she couldn't. All she could do was move forward, and hope that one day, she'd find peace.

Shea wondered how she didn't see the signs. Cassie being "passed out" in the bathtub -- in the same bathroom Chris was taking so long in. The cold, distant way Cassie had been acting. Encouraging Shea to get the abortion when she found out about it. It all made sense now. But back then, she had been blind to it all.

All the signs were there, and she'd missed them all. Looking back at the photos, she can't help but feel a pang of guilt. She should have known better, should have trusted her instincts. But she was young, naive.

And even though she had her suspicions that Chris and Cassie were both up to something -- not once did she think they were seeing each other behind her back, or that they were having any interaction with each other at all.

In fact, she had been under the impression that Cassie was getting back together with her ex boyfriend or something. The thought of them together, the thought of them sharing something that she could never have, was enough to make her stomach churn.

But she had to remind herself that none of it mattered anymore. Cassie and Chris were both gone, and she was left to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. She could only hope that one day, she would find peace, that she would be able to forgive herself for not seeing the truth sooner.

"You okay, baby?" Chris asks, his voice soft and concerned. She looks up at him, a small smile on her lips.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Shea lies, still lost in thought. She pushes the photos aside and takes his hand. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too." He notices the polaroids and frowns. "Why do you have those out? You don't need to think about her anymore."

"I know ... I just ... we were best friends you know?" Shea says quietly, looking down at the bed. "We did so much together, and it's like I lost her when you and I got together." She pauses, biting her lip. "I just wish we could be friends again."

"I'm sorry." Chris says, pulling her closer. "I wish that too. I never meant for things to be this way. But I want you to know that I'm happy with you, and I'm committed to making this work, no matter what." He kisses her forehead, his eyes serious. "We'll find a way, babe. I promise."

"I know. It's not your fault. I think, I needed to learn to be without her. You know? Like, it happened for a reason." Shea smiles up at him, trying to be positive. "I love you, Chris. I really do," she places his hands in hers. "And I love our baby..." she whispers. "I just wish things could've been different."

He doesn't want her to think about Cassie or the past anymore. But he knows that it's not going to be that easy. Not when the reminders are everywhere. He'll just have to be there for her, support her, and hope that one day, she'll truly be able to move on.

Because he loves her, and he's not going to let anything or anyone come between them.

"I know it's not fair to ask, but ... I don't want you to think about her, okay?" he asks gently. She looks up at him, her eyes wet with tears.

"I can't promise that, Chris. I wish I could, but I can't." She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "But I promise, I'll try."

He nods, kisses her forehead, and holds her close. For now, that's all he can ask for. And he hopes that someday, it will be enough.