HONOR ME

FOURTEEN

SKYLER

The worn cotton of André’s T-shirt did little to hide the fact that I was wearing almost nothing beneath it.

A flush crept up my neck when I became painfully aware of my position—straddling his lap while pressing a cool, damp towel against his forehead.

I squeezed out the excess water and brought it back to his skin, deliberately focusing on the task rather than the charged silence hanging between us.

“Did you speak to your dad?”

André sighed.

“There’s no use.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course.

I leaned sideways to soak the towel again, immediately conscious of how easily the oversized shirt could shift. I adjusted myself before returning to him.

“Any problem?” André asked.

There was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.”

His smirk widened.

He reached for the hem of the shirt, helping me keep it in place as I leaned forward again.

“Thanks.”

I dabbed the towel over his forehead and cheeks.

“Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

André's expression hardened.

“He has my address if he wants a conversation.”

“He cares—”

“Can we discuss something else?”

I frowned.

“Like what?”

His gaze settled on me, and something changed in his expression.

“Like how you’ve been such a loving wife.”

My stomach tightened.

“Lay down.”

I pressed a hand against his shoulder, trying to push him back.

He didn't move.

“André.”

His hands found my waist, and my breath caught.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Then let me go.”

His gaze lingered on mine.

The air between us suddenly felt too warm.

I dropped the towel onto the bed.

“Maybe we should talk about—”

“Take it off.”

My eyes widened.

“Absolutely not.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“We're not having s*x, André.”

He was still recovering. He needed rest, not whatever this was.

“Who takes it off?” he asked. “Me or you?”

I stared at him.

“Neither.”

I moved away, and this time he let me.

“Where are you going?”

“To my room.”

I straightened the shirt and glared at him.

“Get your hands off me, André. You’re not thinking straight. You need to rest.”

I left before he could argue.

Marriage and s*x were two completely different things.

I was married to André.

That didn't mean he was entitled to me.

Louis had always asked before touching me. Always.

André didn't.

That difference mattered.

I respected myself too much to pretend otherwise.

━━━━━━ ✧ ━━━━━━

Weeks passed before Louis called.

The second I heard his voice, something inside me softened.

I'd missed him.

More than I wanted to admit.

He wanted to see me, and every part of me wanted to say yes.

There was only one problem.

André.

I couldn't exactly leave the house while he was still recovering, so, against my better judgment, I gave Louis the address.

Christine and André had business that evening.

Louis could come in while they were gone.

At least, that's what I'd told myself.

“Take your pills and get enough rest, okay?”

I paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“Your mom should be coming by soon to pick you up.”

I turned toward the staircase.

“Skyler.”

I stopped.

André's voice had changed.

“If I see that boy in my house, I'm going to kill him.”

Every muscle in my body locked.

I refused to turn around.

“I heard your little phone call.”

My heart dropped.

I didn't answer.

I simply walked upstairs, shut myself inside my room, and locked the door.

The second it clicked into place, I grabbed my phone.

Louis answered almost immediately.

“What’s up?”

“You can’t come.”

My voice had fallen to a whisper.

“He knows, and he’s going to kill you.”

Silence.

Then his voice changed.

“Babe?”

“Don’t.”

“Are you in danger? Is he doing something to you?”

“No. No, no.”

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me.

“Just don't come. At all. Please.”

“Sky—”

I ended the call.

Hopefully, he'd understood.

Hopefully, he'd stay away.

Half an hour passed.

André left with Christine.

Louis never showed up.

For the first time that night, I breathed properly.

Maybe he'd finally listened.

Maybe he'd realized that whatever we were doing wasn't worth putting himself in danger.

As much as I wanted to see him, I couldn't ignore the reality of my situation.

André could be intimidating.

He could be infuriating.

But Louis mattered to me.

I didn't want him caught in the middle.

I changed into a silk nightdress and wandered downstairs, switching on the television.

The house felt unnaturally quiet.

I'd never thought I'd notice André's absence.

Yet since moving in, he'd somehow become my constant company.

And now that he wasn't here, the silence seemed louder.

I curled into the corner of the sofa.

Then—

“Sky?”

My blood ran cold.

I slowly lifted my head.

That voice.

“Louis?”

I shot to my feet.

He stepped into the living room with a smile, as though he hadn't spent the last hour ignoring every warning I'd given him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

His gaze swept around the room.

“Where’s André?”

“He left.”

I hurried toward him.

“But you shouldn't be here.”

His smile disappeared.

“What do you mean?”

“Louis, it isn't safe.”

He frowned.

“Don't you miss me?”

My chest tightened.

“It's not that.”

I shook my head.

“Louis, I've missed you so much. But you can't be here right now.”

He stepped closer.

“Then when can I see you?”

“Another time.”

I barely finished speaking before he kissed me.

For one stunned second, I couldn't process what was happening.

Then I pulled away.

“Not tonight, Lou.”

His expression hardened.

“When, Skyler?”

“I don't know.”

“I need you.”

My heart began pounding.

“Please. Another time.”

He didn't listen.

His arms came around my waist, pulling me closer.

“Louis.”

I tried to step away.

He held on.

“I like this dress on you.”

My stomach twisted.

“Stop this, Louis.”

He didn't.

“Louis, stop.”

His attention remained fixed on me as if my words had become background noise.

I pushed against his chest.

“Please.”

My voice sounded smaller than I wanted.

“Stop.”

His grip tightened.

“You're mine, Skyler.”

The words chilled me.

I stared at him.

“Do you hear me?”

My eyes burned.

For the first time since I'd known Louis, I didn't feel safe with him.

“Louis... please.”

I tried again to pull away.

“Stop.”

He still didn't.

“This isn't you,” I whispered.

But he didn't seem to hear me.

Then—

CRASH.

Louis was suddenly ripped away from me.

He stumbled across the room and collided with the coffee table.

Glass shattered across the floor.

I gasped.

André.

He stood between us, chest rising and falling rapidly, his face transformed by fury.

He didn't say a word.

He went straight for Louis.

The first punch sent Louis staggering.

Then another.

“s**t!”

I rushed toward them.

“André, stop!”

Neither listened.

Louis fought back, but André was relentless.

André had survived a plane crash only weeks ago. He was barely back on his feet, yet whatever pain he was feeling had disappeared beneath his rage.

“André!”

I grabbed his arm.

“Stop! You're going to kill him!”

For a second, everything stopped.

André looked at me.

The fury in his eyes made me instinctively step back.

“Get into your room, Skyler.”

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Now.”

I didn't argue.

I ran upstairs, slammed my bedroom door, and locked it behind me.

Then I slid down against it.

The shouting downstairs continued.

Something crashed.

Then something else.

I pressed my hands over my ears.

Finally—

Silence.

A few moments later, the front door slammed.

My breathing refused to settle.

Then I heard footsteps.

Heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.

They stopped outside my door.

The handle turned.

I squeezed my eyes shut as fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.

The door opened.

“What the f**k, Skyler?”

I flinched.

But André didn't sound angry anymore.

He sounded broken.

“Don't cry.”

That only made it worse.

“You let him in, didn't you?”

I shook my head rapidly.

“I didn't.”

My voice cracked.

“The door was unlocked.”

His breathing changed.

“He only knew where I lived because you gave him the address.”

“I know.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

“I'm sorry, André.”

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then I whispered the words I'd been terrified to say.

“Please don't hurt me.”

Something shifted across his face.

The anger disappeared.

What replaced it looked almost painful.

“Hurt you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I'd never hurt you.”

I looked at him through tear-filled eyes.

He took one careful step toward me.

Then another.

When he finally wrapped his arms around me, there was no force behind it.

No demand.

Just warmth.

“You're safe.”

His hand settled gently against the back of my head.

“You're safe now.”

The sob I'd been holding inside finally broke free.

I buried my face against his chest and cried.

André didn't tell me to stop.

He didn't ask questions.

He simply held me until there was nothing left to cry.

When I finally looked up, his eyes searched mine.

“Promise me something.”

I nodded.

“No more Louis.”

My heart squeezed.

For a moment, I thought about everything that had happened.

The man I'd trusted.

The man I'd thought would always make me feel safe.

And the man I'd spent weeks convincing myself I could never trust.

I swallowed.

“No more Louis.”

The words left my lips quietly.

But this time, I meant them.