Seven years of marriage.

Could it really be because of that man last night?

Timothy's dark eyes seemed to deepen, almost swallowing the light.

He narrowed his gaze, jaw tight, and grabbed Jessica's chin, trying to force her to

speak.

Jessica's lips parted unwillingly.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?"

His voice was low, edged with a simmering anger he couldn't quite hide.

When Timothy caught a glimpse of her pale pink tongue, it was still bleeding.

Moving to the nightstand, he pulled out a few wet wipes and came back, carefully wiping the blood from her skin.

Blood was still trickling from the corner of her mouth.

His brow furrowed in frustration. He shoved the remaining wipes into her hand and, without another word, swept her into his arms.

They had barely stepped out of the master bedroom-crossing only a few paces -when Sheila appeared from the living room, a glass of water in hand. She stopped short, staring at them.

along her neck, and her robe slipping off one

coloring her tone. "What happened to

taking her to the hospital. We'll talk later," Timothy said, striding past

the floor, shattering

been so rough that Jessica

at the mouth... that

out to be wild in bed. No wonder she got pregnant with Timothy's son so

imagine what he was like

for Jessica's connection as his aunt by marriage, would she

Jessica

up, stopped the

and stick to

Timothy led

as he shut the door, he shot her a cold look. "You made such a scene, forcing me to come and get you myself. And

didn't understand a

hands, forming the words slowly in sign language:

world seemed to freeze

broad daylight, and then at night you ask

Patience?

was tolerating

lover home, and he had

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