You Still Feel Me
987 Words
Chapter 15
The room was too quiet.
Too honest.
Mia sat on the couch, legs crossed, wearing nothing but one of Noah’s shirts — oversized, wrinkled, and still smelling like his skin. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as if she were trying to shield herself from everything he might say next.
Noah stood in front of the window, mug of coffee untouched in his hand, shirtless, the waistband of his joggers riding low on his hips. The morning sun framed him in light, but nothing about this moment felt warm.
He broke the silence first.
“Her name is Hope.”
Mia’s eyes lifted, sharp and tired. “I know. You already told me that.”
He paused. “Right. Sorry.”
“She’s five,” Mia added, her voice quieter now. “Born two years after Lily disappeared from all our lives. I already did the math.”
Noah lowered his gaze. “She looks just like her.”
Mia nodded slowly. “Except the smile. That’s not Lily’s. That smile is too innocent. Too untouched by all the damage.”
He took a step forward, voice low. “I didn’t want this to get between us.”
“You think a child doesn’t change everything?” she said. “You think this doesn’t tear me in two?”
“I told you the moment I knew, Mia. I didn’t even know Hope existed until recently. The second I found out, I came to you.”
“You told me, and I still showed up ready to sign the divorce,” she said bitterly. “You let me come in with my lawyer. And instead of letting me walk away, you seduced me.”
“I didn’t plan it that way,” he said softly.
“But that’s exactly how it happened,” she snapped.
He moved to her side, kneeling in front of her. “You needed to know. I couldn’t lie to you.”
“But you waited,” she said, the emotion rising in her throat. “And when I think of everything I gave up just to be second to a ghost again—”
“Don’t say that,” he cut in. “You were never second.”
Mia stood suddenly. “Don’t lie to me. You never stopped loving her. And now her child is here, and you’re what? The backup parent? The grieving best friend turned savior?”
“I’m just trying to do right by her. And by Hope. And you.”
“You can’t serve all three.”
“I can try.”
She started pacing. “I should’ve signed the papers yesterday.”
He moved toward her. “But you didn’t.”
She froze. “That night wasn’t about fixing anything. That was just two broken people giving in to history.”
“I don’t regret it.”
“You should.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “You felt it. Same way I did.”
“You don’t get to use s*x as a bandage.”
“No,” he said. “I get to remind you how real this still is.”
She turned away from him and walked to the door.
Click.
She turned slowly, her chest rising with quiet fury. “You locked the door?”
“I’ll open it,” he said, calm and infuriating, “if you kiss me.”
Her laugh was humorless. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re still here.”
“Noah—”
“Say you didn’t feel anything,” he said, stepping closer, lowering his voice. “Say Hope didn’t shake you. Say last night meant nothing. And I’ll open the door.”
She stared at him.
Silence stretched.
Then she grabbed his jaw, kissed him hard, angry.
His arms found her instantly. He lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, carrying her to the door and pinning her against it.
Her shirt slipped, her mouth opened to gasp, but he swallowed it with another deep kiss. Her hands yanked down his joggers.
“You’re already hard,” she hissed.
“You always do this to me.”
He slid inside her without warning. Her back slammed against the door as her moan filled the room.
“f**k, Noah—”
He thrust harder. She gripped his shoulders, holding on as he moved in her with urgency. It was messy, wild, too fast and too full of everything they never said.
They stumbled to the couch. He dropped her onto it and spread her legs, kneeling. His mouth on her—tongue, lips, fingers—every part of him worshipping her.
She came apart fast. He didn’t stop.
He climbed on top of her, thrusting back into her soaked heat. Her nails raked his back. Her head lolled back. Their bodies moved together like instinct.
He flipped her over, pulled her hips up.
“Tell me you still hate me,” he growled.
“I do,” she panted. “I hate how you feel inside me.”
“Liar.”
He thrust deeper. She cried out. The couch shook. They were both sweat-slick, panting, filthy with need.
She came again, sobbing his name.
He followed, collapsing on top of her.
---
They lay in silence.
Mia stood first. Pulled on her shirt.
Noah watched her.
“You still want the divorce?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not choosing Hope over you,” he said. “I’m just… trying to be the father to her. And the man you once loved.”
“She’s not the problem,” Mia whispered. “You are.”
He nodded, slowly.
“I’ll fix it.”
“I need space.”
He didn’t stop her this time.
But as she turned her back, he knew one thing:
Even war has its truces.
And this wasn’t the end.
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