The Virgin Wife

Episode 7: Mine

Morning came too fast.

Amara woke up alone. The other side of the bed was cold.

The storm was gone. Sunlight was pouring through the windows.

She sat up, pulling the blanket around her. Her body ached. Her heart ached more.

The door opened.

Emeka. Freshly showered. Button-down shirt. Looking like nothing happened.

He stopped when he saw her. His jaw tightened.

"Morning," he said. Flat.

"Morning," Amara replied. She stood up, grabbing her robe. "I'll make coffee."

"Amara, wait."

She turned.

Emeka ran a hand down his face. He looked tired. And angry. At himself.

"Last night shouldn't have happened," he said.

Amara nodded. Because what else was there to say? "I know. It won't happen again."

"Good."

The word cut her.

Emeka stepped closer. "This was a contract. Nothing more. I can't—"

"Emeka."

His name came out of her mouth before she could stop it.

He looked up.

Amara took a deep breath. "You said 'don't say anything'. So I won't. But I need you to know... I don't regret it."

Emeka's eyes darkened.

"And you don't get to pretend it didn't mean something," she continued. Voice shaking. "Not when you kissed me like that. Not when you called me yours."

"I never called you—"

"You did," Amara whispered. "In the car. 'What's mine'."

The room went silent.

Emeka stared at her for a long time. Then he crossed the room in 2 steps.

His hands came up, cupping her face. Rough. Desperate.

"f**k the contract," he growled. "f**k the rules."

And he kissed her.

Not angry. Not desperate like last night.

This time it was slow. Deep. Like a promise.

When he pulled back, his forehead was against hers.

"You're mine, Amara," he said. Low. Final. "Contract or no contract. Virgin or not. You're mine. And I don't regret a single second."

Amara's breath hitched. "Then what now?"

Emeka smiled. The first real smile she'd seen from him.

"Now? Now we start over. No contract. Just us."

He kissed her again.

And this time, there were no rules.